What If No One's Watching?
by beast916
Summary: Sam is trying to win a competition to pull the senior prank.  Freddie has a secret writing project.  How do these two events collide and intermingle?  Will Sam and Freddie get closer?  Will they stop playing the game?  "iOMG" did not occur for this story.
1. Chapter 1: Words Only Get Us in Trouble

Chapter 1: Words Only Get Us in Trouble

**Disclaimer: Yeah, it ain't mine, folks. I just play with the toys.**

_**Note: For the purpose of this story "iOMG" never happened. All episodes before it did. This story also has no connection to my other fanfiction, although I beg you in the manliest fashion to read them. Also, in the world of this story duck-billed platypuses are rabid and have taken over the Canary Islands, but that plays no part in this story.**_

_Day One - Morning_

_1_

Freddie had told Sam and Carly he needed to go to the library to finish up some school work. Which was true. Somewhat. The school work he needed to finish took him about fifteen minutes. The rest of the time he took to work on his...project. He had read somewhere that writing about things helped you deal with them. Some people wrote in a journal. He tried to imagine himself writing in a journal. He could, but then he imagined Sam finding that journal. That would be bad. Indeed, Sam seeing anything he wrote right now would be particularly bad.

Doing this at the library wasn't a particularly stealthy pursuit, either, but it was better than trying to write at home. His mother was keeping a close eye on him since Sam had got him involved in her little prank on Lewbert with the hamsters. Freddie sighed. He didn't know why he kept allowing Sam to talk him into this stuff. Well, he knew, but he knew he really shouldn't let her.

He printed his project, and then he made sure he erased any history of it on the computer. Normally he would just put it on a flash card, but his mother was going through one of her extreme snooping phases. He did have some hiding places at home, but he didn't trust them quite enough. His mom had found some in the past, so he didn't put it past her to find the new ones.

He folded the piece of paper and slipped it in his Calculus book. Sam had a different math class, so she wouldn't have any reason to borrow this book or any of his notes.

_Okay, that's done. I guess I'll go see what Sam wanted. Probably something I shouldn't have anything to do with_.

He didn't see the impromptu match between members of the wrestling team until he was already caught in the middle of it. Although he ended up sliding about ten feet down the hall, he wasn't hurt badly. He had been caught between wrestlers before and, although he was never going to join the team, he had learned how to protect his head. The wrestlers paused briefly to mumble an apology (which wouldn't have happened years before) and continued their match down the hall.

He picked up his books. He never noticed the folded piece of paper that had fallen out of his book and flitted under the closed classroom door. He didn't notice it was missing until everything was already set in motion.

_2_

Sam was impatient.

This was not a new emotion for Sam, but right now she really felt on edge. Freddie should have been there by now. Usually, she would be able to handle something like what she was planning by herself, but doing so would take longer. And time was not something of which she had a lot.

Plus, she didn't mind spending time with the nub.

Sometimes, maybe she even enjoyed it.

Maybe.

For the moment she wasn't concentrating on her conflicted feelings for Freddie Benson. Conflicted, because she should not be having those feelings for him. At all.

No, she was concentrating on the prank she planned to pull. This was her senior year. Every high school had a big prank at the end of the school year, and she was going to be the one to put it together. The problem was there were quite a few other students who felt the same way. Along with Sam, they were commonly known in the teachers' lounge as the "Detention Posse". Two weeks ago, on the first day school, when they were all in detention (Sam took pride in getting detention the first day of school each year in high school), the subject had come up. Even when Sam threatened to beat people up, nobody wanted to back off on being the one to orchestrate the senior prank. So the twelve of them made an agreement that for the first month of school they all would pull various pranks. Sam worked out a point system during detention, constructing a flowchart that would have flummoxed the computer science teacher and which, when she showed him a copy, made Freddie angry.

"Sam, if you can do this, you should be able to ace your courses easily," he said. She shrugged it off. She didn't know why it bothered him so much.

"Whatever. Are you gonna help me or what?" Freddie wouldn't have a few years ago, but the two of them had become closer since then. When Sam thought about it (_not that she thought about Freddie a lot, and don't be getting any ideas, folks_) she thought there were two events that led them to this situation.

The first was the kiss they shared. Her first kiss. His first kiss. The one that happened because she had told the _iCarly_ audience Freddie had never kissed anyone. She had to exact revenge because he had handcuffed her to Gibby. It was pretty good revenge, too. He had been harassed so badly he didn't go to school for a week.

She hadn't expected to feel bad about it, though. So, after Carly added to her guilt, she had told the truth on _iCarly_, that she had never kissed anyone, either. And then she had gone to apologize to Freddie. And the same idea seemed to appear to both of them-to get past that first kiss by kissing each other.

Which was stupid. Why would she want her first kiss to be with Freddie Benson? He annoyed her with his nerdiness and his polo shirts and his obsessive love for Carly. He was her favorite person to torment. Except, at some point, he had become one of her favorite people. Period.

The second event that had changed their relationship was when he broke up with Carly. He had broken up with her because of something Sam had said. She still couldn't believe he had done it, even though she had told him the truth, that Carly only loved him because he had saved Carly's life.

And something had changed. Freddie never talked about his love for Carly anymore. He didn't act jealous when she dated other guys. And when you added up the time the three of them spent in different pairs (_not that Sam ever did_), it strangely appeared that Sam and Freddie were together more often than Freddie and Carly were, or even Sam and Carly.

So when Sam decided she was going to win the prank competition she didn't think twice about including Freddie. Sure, he protested when she first brought it up to him, as she knew he was going to do. But he gave in, as she also knew was going to happen. Somewhere, deep inside the nerdtastic technogeek heart of Mama Boy Benson was a rebel screaming to get out. And Sam was the person to make that happen.

She hadn't told him the plan for today, just for him to meet her near the teacher's parking lot. The more clues she gave, the harder he might resist. If she told him when he was already there, she knew she could get him to participate. It was the game they played.

Except he wasn't here. If there was one thing you could count on with Freddie, it was him being on time. It wasn't a trait Sam shared, but she appreciated it in him, especially in time-sensitive situations like this.

But he wasn't there.

Finally, she broke down and called him. She tried to ensure he contacted her more than she contacted him, in case he started to think she cared about him or something. But she was not going to lose the competition.

"Hello." Benson didn't sound like himself. In fact, he sounded a little panicked.

"Where are you at, Nub? You were supposed to be here to help me with this." She looked out into the lot. Everything was clear so far.

"Oh...sorry, Sam. I lost...something, and I really have to find it."

"What did you lose that's so important you can't be here?"

"Uh...my Calculus homework?"

"Freddie, I swear..."

"Sorry, Sam, gotta go." And there was silence. He had hung up on her. He was going to pay for that.

She almost decided to skip the prank. She could make it up another time. But then she thought about others in the Detention Posse who probably already had pranks under their belt, just ready to report them and smirk in her face. No, it would take longer without Freddie, but she could still do it.

Breaking into Ms. Briggs' car was the easy part. She lined the shaving cream cans all around the car. When the car was turned on, they would all go off at once, filling the car with the cream. Sam had to check the string, though, just to make sure it would work. She didn't need it to go off when the car was halfway down the highway. She wanted to prank Ms. Briggs, but she didn't really want to kill her. Well, not in any literal way.

With Freddie there, she would have already been done. With Freddie there, she also would have had somebody to keep watch for her. With Freddie there, she definitely would have known Principal Franklin was there long before he said something.

"Hello, Sam." She looked up. _Caught_.

"Oh, hey, Ted, what's shaking?"

"Principal Franklin," he corrected automatically. "As for what's shaking, perhaps that is something you and I should discuss in my office."

"I don't suppose I could finish here?" Sam asked. He shook his head. Sam shrugged dramatically. "Ah, well...after you."

"Ladies first," he said, and gestured to the door. Sam gave another shrug, while inside she was fidgety. This was not going to turn out good for her. And as she headed to Ted's office, she could only think of one thing.

_This is all Freddie's fault_.

**A/N: Every time I think I have written my last thing for Sam and Freddie, another idea pops up in my head. I will touch more about how this idea came up in another chapter, because to do so now would give away just what Freddie's "project" is. It will probably come up next chapter.**

**For those of you concerned after my last story, "Maybe It's Just Me", there are no time jumps in this one. This story, at least for how it is supposed to go, will take place over a two-week period. There will probably be at least a chapter a day, although there may be more than one per day (the first day has at least two chapters). **

**Also, although I've said this every time, updates for this story will not occur as quickly as in stories before. Usually when I post a chapter I already have another three or four written. Except for a first draft of Freddie's project, I have nothing else written yet for this one, although I have a good idea what I am going to be writing. But, since I wrote that, I might have the rest of the story posted within a week. Or I might finish it before September. Who knows?**

**I appreciate any reviews.**


	2. Chapter 2: This Seat is Familiar

Chapter 2:

**Disclaimer: Owning something is a concept forced on us by the man! And in this case, the man is Dan Schneider. Who owns **_**iCarly**_**.**

_Day One - Morning_

_1_

Principal Franklin led Sam into the office, although at this point in her high school career she needed little help. She knew the office as well as he did. She knew the names of his kids, the names of his kids' friends. She knew he had an ulcer, and also that he ignored the ulcer while sneaking an occasional cup of coffee. Sam felt the two of them were friends. Except that their relationship was built almost entirely on Sam getting in trouble.

His secretary got up and whispered something to him before he entered the room. He gestured Sam to go on. She sat in her usual chair. She had thought of asking Ted if she could take it as a graduation present. Thinking about the prank he had interrupted, she amended: _as long as I can still graduate_.

Principal Franklin came into the office with a folded piece of paper in his hand. He sat down and looked at Sam for a moment, thinking. Then he got up, straightened the page he held in his hand and put the paper in the scanner and pressed a button. There was a mechanical whirring sound as the page fed through. He took the paper and came back to the desk. He didn't look at Sam as he did some things on his computer.

"So...we all good here, Ted?"

"No, Samantha, I don't believe so." Sam frowned. She couldn't really say anything about the use of her full name, since she called him Ted. "Ms. Briggs is pushing for you to be expelled."

"What?" He nodded.

"Yes, normally students get to start fresh each year. You, on the other hand, are an exception, and there have been...grumblings from certain people to remove you." Sam wasn't shocked. Besides Ms. Briggs, she knew Mr. Howard hated her. If Ted Franklin wasn't the principal, she probably would have been gone a long time ago. She liked him, and she regretted the situations that brought them to this office. Not enough to stop, but still...

"It wasn't me, Ted. I think my sister Melanie..." She stopped when Ted turned the computer screen toward her and showed her what was on it. Melanie's Splashface page. With a status of one hour ago. A picture of her in front of her school. _Great._

"Sam, what are we going to do with you?" She looked at him. "You're so close to graduating. Now you're doing this prank thing. Yes, I know about that," he said, on her look. "And your grades are already low after only two weeks."

"I guess I'm just not that smart, Ted," she said.

"Stop, Sam. Both of us know you're very smart. You just don't apply yourself to the things you should." Sam hung her head. She would have preferred being yelled at by Briggs or Howard to seeing the disappointment in Ted's eyes. "I don't plan to expel you, Sam."

She looked up at him. He held a finger up.

"However." She groaned. He ignored it. "There are two things you are going to do to prevent that expulsion." Sam tensed. "The first thing you're going to do is improve your grades."

"But..." He waved her off.

"Yes, I know. However smart you are, I know you have some catching up to do. Fortunately, I know of a student who wants to improve his college resume, and assisting a mediocre student would certainly do that. Your major areas of concern are math and English, and he is one of the best at our school."

"Who is this nerd you're saddling me with?" She had a bad, sneaking suspicion.

"I believe you know him. Freddie Benson." Sam shook her head.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. C'mon, Ted, he's such a nub." She crossed her arms in standard Sam defensive posturing.

"I also believe he's one of your best friends. And he's expressed concern about your noted lack of scholastic aptitude."

"How..." Sam started.

"I know many things, young Puckett," he said and grinned at her. Sam's expression didn't change, but she laughed internally, thinking Ted was a bit of a nub himself.

"Fine, so there's that," she said and started to get up. He waved her down.

"There is also the second item." She sat down. "I believe you know about the literary magazine the English department is putting together?" Sam stared at him blankly. He sighed. "Yes, perhaps that's part of the problem. Well, you may have missed it, but before the end of school last year we asked students to contribute to the magazine-stories, poems, etcetera."

"I'm not writing a poem, Ted."

"Wouldn't dream of asking you, Samantha. However, fate has smiled on us and graced us with this." He held up the piece of paper. "Mrs. Taylor was quite thrilled when she found it, but we don't know who wrote it. That's where you come in. At this point, we're practically willing to take anything."

"How?"

"We need you to find out who wrote it." Sam got up.

"No problem." He waved her down again.

"Yes, I'm sure. But finding out will not involve any physical or verbal intimidation. No abuse of any kind. I will be keeping an eye on the nurse's office...and any phone calls from concerned parents." Sam frowned. "I'm going to give you a copy of this, and you will need to figure out who wrote it. We need to know within two weeks."

Sam took the page and looked at it.

"What is this, Ted?"

"A poem, Sam."

"It doesn't rhyme, though."

"Yes, it's called free verse. I'm sure young Mr. Benson will be glad to explain it to you." He waved her off. She went to the door. "Sam." She turned back around. "Two weeks, or I will have to consider Ms. Briggs' option."

She nodded and left.

_2_

_I'm toast_, Freddiie thought.

_At least I didn't put my name on it_. He had figured out rather quickly that the paper had been lost when he got caught between the wrestlers, but everywhere he looked in the hallway produced nothing. The important thing is that Sam didn't find out.

"You and me have to talk, nerd," said the object of his thoughts. She pulled him into an empty classroom and closed the door.

"Sam, I have to go see Principal Franklin. I'm going to be tutoring somebody." Sam smirked and waved at him. He gaped at her. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no...that's not possible."

"That sounds familiar," she said.

"Oh, man, I'm going to be stuck with you," he said, throwing his hands up.

"Well, it's gonna be fun hanging with you, too," Sam said, bottling her hurt.

"I'm just saying, you're not the most receptive to correction and guidance, Sam." She smiled at that. He had her there.

"Well, you're gonna get used to seeing me, Frednubs."

"Why's that?"

"Because thanks to you ditching me this morning, I got caught, so I have to do something for Ted or get expelled."

"Expelled?" Freddie asked. Sam took a minute step back at the real concern on Freddie's face.

"Yeah, he caught me hooking up shaving cream cans to Briggs' car, and she's pushing for me to go."

"What a-wait, how does this involve me?"

"If you hadn't ditched me, I wouldn't have been caught. So you get to help me with my little project."

Sam was pretty upset about it. She had gone to the bookworms and other nerds, but once they realized she wasn't going to beat them, they weren't much help. Nobody fessed up, and nobody pointed out who the writer might be. One of the geeks had sniffed and said the poem was much too "pedestrian" for any of them to have written it.

"Help you with what?" Freddie asked.

Sam pulled out the paper. "Help me find out who wrote this."

Sam would have admired his bravery if she knew how close he came to passing out right there. There in Sam's hand was his poem. That he had written about the person who was holding it right now. _Oh, yeah, keeping a journal is much more dangerous_, he thought.

"What's that?"

"What's it look like, Freddie? It's a poem." He took it and looked at it, pretending to read it for the first time.

"It doesn't rhyme," he said.

"That's what I said, but Ted said they still want to publish it in their literary club thing. But they can't do it unless they get permission from the person who wrote it. So Ted gave me the assignment of finding out who wrote it."

_This just gets better and better_, Freddie thought. He had once seen a movie in which a boy was killed when an airplane engine had fallen from above and crushed him to death in his bed. He envied that boy.

"Well, why don't you just ask the guys in the English club?"

"I already tried that. They said it wasn't them-something about it being 'pedestrian'."

"They said what?" Freddie burst out. "I mean, poetry's not my thing, but it seems okay."

"I kind of like it, actually," Sam said, mostly to herself. She didn't see Freddie stare at her. "Anyway, you're going to help me find out who wrote it."

"What? How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Use your nerd powers. You owe me."

"I guess I can look into it at some point."

"Some point is tonight, Fredweiner. Remember, you're my tutor now, so we can kill two birds with one stone."

"Sam, I don't know about this."

"Freddie," she said, and Freddie paused at her tone. "Please. I don't want to get expelled."

Freddie sighed.

"Okay."

"Awesome." Her mood perked up immediately. Freddie might have thought she was faking the concern just a moment earlier, but concern wasn't something Sam faked. "So we have to get it figured out before two weeks is up. Or I'll have to send you to the hospital before I get kicked out of school." Freddie paid no attention to the threat, as he was concentrating on the second part-"kicked out of school".

He was going to have tutor Sam, so she didn't flunk. And he needed to prevent her from getting kicked out of school without revealing it was he who wrote the poem.

And he was going to be spending every day with the girl with whom he was in love. He had fantasies she would return that love, but reality was more likely to end with him receiving a wedgie or, worse, gales of laughter that he would ever think she would love a nub like him.

_This is going to be a long two weeks_.

**A/N: Okay, well, we know that Freddie's project is a poem he wrote about Sam. Don't worry (or do, dependent on your views of my poetry skill), we will eventually see Freddie's poem.**

**Much like my last fanfiction, this story came together for the most part at once. I was driving on my daily commute and had my iPod on shuffle. Ani Difranco's "What If No One's Watching" came on. Although that song is essentially about religion/spirituality, the title stuck in my head (it is actually in Freddie's poem). Secondly, I thought about a episode of Joan of Arcadia, "Anonymous", in which Joan's friend, Grace, did not want anybody to know she was the person who wrote a poem. A third cog in this story came from the Futurama episode "Lethal Inspection", in which Hermes assists Bender in trying to find Inspector #5, only for it to be revealed at the end that Hermes was Inspector #5 and was thwarting Bender each step of the way. I think you can see how that last one might play in this story, as Sam wants Freddie to help her discover the poet, while he will try to prevent her from finding out it is him, all while trying to tutor her and keep her from being expelled.**

**I think there is probably another chapter for day 1, before we move on to the next day. Again, each day of the 14-day period will be covered, but I can't say for sure how many chapters will be included in each day.**

**Thank you for reviews from Alwayswrite, Geekquality, afanoffanfic, and ForteEXEMaster.**

**Sorry, afanoffanfic, only one new update today.**


	3. Chapter 3: Neutral Ground

Chapter 3: Neutral Ground

**Disclaimer: I own a grasshopper. I call him Norman. All Dan Schneider has is a show called **_**iCarly**_**, so, ha, I win!.**

_Day One - Evening_

_1_

The first argument they had - well, the first argument that particular hour - was about where they would hold the tutoring session. Sam's first option was the Shay's living room, but Freddie vetoed that because of possible distractions from Carly, the TV, the refrigerator, and the possibility of Spencer setting something on fire. Sam nixed the idea of Freddie's apartment before it was even brought up, because of Freddie's crazy mother. Freddie wasn't going to ask Sam over anyway, because of his crazy mother (_not that he didn't love her_).

"What about the Groovy Smoothie?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, because the food there would be less distracting than at Carly's," Freddie said. "Besides, with so many people around, you wouldn't be able to overcome your urge to insult me."

"You know me so well." Sam grinned. Freddie blinked quickly, but his face gave away no emotion.

"How about the library?" Freddie asked.

"Nerdsville," she replied.

Finally they agreed on the studio, with the caveat that Sam couldn't turn on the TV and Freddie couldn't be a nerd. They told Carly of their plans and requested they not be disturbed.

"If you hear screaming, I'm just beating up Freddie," Sam said.

"Or she's learning something," Freddie added. Sam stuck her tongue out at him, and he returned the favor.

_2_

"How did you do that, Sam?"

"What, I just added."

"Yeah, but you did it in your head."

"So?"

"So, Sam, if you can add up numbers like that in your head, then you should be able to grasp the rest of this easily. You're just being lazy." He tried to keep the anger from showing. Sam adopted this devil-may-care attitude long ago, and he was afraid of where it was going to take her once she got out of school. If she got out of school.

"Mama is what Mama is," Sam said easily. She had noticed the flash of anger in Freddie's eyes and wondered about it. They were friends. She could admit that to herself, if not to him, and she knew they cared about each other, although she was less willing to show it than he was. But that anger seemed to express more than caring. Even Carly appeared to have given up on Sam's academic life. This wasn't the first time Freddie had shown concern. Afraid she was giving too much credit to how he felt, she did what she always did. She ignored it.

"All right, let's move on to the English. What are you doing in class right now?" Sam gave him a shrug and a "why would you think I would know" look. Freddie sighed.

"Okay, hold on." He went to the computer. After a moment, he said," you're working on E.E. Cummings poems."

"Who?"

"He's a poet. C'mon, read this." He had opened her textbook and showed her a poem called "Buffalo Bill's."

"This doesn't rhyme, either. What's with all the poetry that doesn't rhyme?" Sam asked.

"Never mind," Freddie said. "Read the poem, and tell me what you think it's about."

Sam read the poem. She read it again. She looked at Freddie.

"Uh, some guy died?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure he died, Freddie!"

"Okay, Sam, yes, he died. But that's not the point."

"So you know the point, Freddie?" He looked at her. "I'm just saying, this doesn't seem like your normal thing. There's no computers or anything."

"Funny, Sam. You just have to learn to break things down. Look, Buffalo Bill was supposedly this really famous guy, but like a lot of cowboy figures, he is mythologized, more legend than man. So Cummings is writing about how Death thinks it's getting this great man, when he's really not. All it takes is a little research."

"Hmm." Sam was staring at the textbook.

"What?"

"When did you read this poem, Freddie?"

"Last week. Even though I have an honors class, we still cover some of the same stuff. Why do you ask?"

"Just that part about the 'blueeyed boy'. That reminds me of the poem Ted gave me." Freddie winced. He had been hoping they would be able to avoid this subject, even though, in his mind, he knew there was no way Sam was going to let go of it. Of anything.

"Okay, but that could be a coincidence, Sam. Lots of people have blue eyes. You have blue eyes."

"But look at the poem," she said and pulled it out of her bag. She held it out to him. Again, he pretended to read something he had written.

_What if no one's watching?_

_Would you look me in the eye?_

_Would you hold my gaze_

_Or would you turn away_

_And hide behind your wall?_

_I've seen you there_

_And I've tried to climb over_

_I've tried to bust through_

_You're always somewhere else_

_Just a step ahead_

_You call it winning_

_But the only thing I want to win_

_is you_

_What if no one's watching_

_This game we always play_

_And there was just me_

_and you_

_Then what would we say?_

_You're my blue-eyed wonder_

_Will your blue eyes ever turn my way?_

_You always keep me guessing_

_When do kisses mean something?_

_What if no one's watching?_

_And you listened to my words?_

_Would you realized I stopped playing_

_long ago?_

"Okay?" Freddie said. "Except for the blue eyes, there's nothing in common between this and the Cummings poem."

"Well, neither of them rhyme."

"Poetry doesn't have to always rhyme!"

"Calm down, Freddork."

"It's just...if you have a limited view of poetry, you might fail English," he said. _Okay, that was lame_, he thought.

"Whatever," Sam said. "So how do you think I can find out who wrote this?"

"I don't know, Sam. How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, you're the brainiac, Freddie!" _This boy is so frustrating_, she thought.

"I'm not any smarter than you, Sam. Well, okay, I am, but you're still pretty smart. You're just lazy." He ignored her sneer. "What can we say we know about this poem?"

"Fine," Sam said. "Let's see. It was found at the school, so it could have been written there. Or the person writing it could have brought it to give to another person."

"Why do you say that, Sam?"

"Well, it's obvious this person is in love with somebody, but is too chicken to tell them directly." Freddie winced at that, but Sam was reading the poem for about the thirtieth time and didn't notice.

"Okay, what else?"

"I'm pretty sure it's written by a guy. It just doesn't really seem like a girl wrote it. I mean, some of the stuff Carly's written..."

"Wait, Carly wrote poetry?"

"Sorry, nub, none of it was about you." She smirked, but he didn't really seem bothered by it. _Maybe he really is over Carly_.

"Uh huh. So it's a guy and he either wrote it at school or brought it to school to give to another person. What else?"

"The other person has blue eyes. Um...they know each other."

"Why do you say that?"

"Jeez, Freddie, you're making this like schoolwork."

"Well, since you're trying to use this to get out of real schoolwork, I figured you still need to apply your brain. Besides, you want me to help with this, right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Sam said. She should have known she wasn't going to get away with shifting their conversation away from English. Sometimes she was impressed with Freddie. He never would have called her on this a few years ago. "Anyway, he mentions a 'game', and that the other person calls it 'winning'. Also, he says he stopped playing long ago. So they have some type of relationship, but they might not be friends."

"Hmmm." _She's smart. You have to remember that, Freddie. She can connect the dots pretty easily if given enough room, so tread carefully_.

"Maybe they're on the same sports team or something?"

"What? But that would mean it would be two guys."

"Or two girls, Sam. Just because you think it's a guy doesn't mean it is."

Sam thought about it.

"Maybe. I don't think so, though. This seems more, what's the word, figural."

"Figurative."

"Yeah, that's it. They're not playing an actual game. It's something the two of them do."

"Oh, man, I gotta go, or my mom is going to kill me," Freddie said, looking at his watch. He hoped the distraction would prevent Sam from making the connections. He was in love with her. He knew that. What he felt for Carly paled in comparison to what he felt for Sam. But he could tell Carly he loved her and, while she would reject him, she would be kind in her rejection. Sam's refusal would eviscerate him.

"Fine, Mama's Boy, but we're going to be working on this again tomorrow."

"Whatever, Sam. Finish those problems I gave you. And read the other poems by Cummings!"

"Blech." She waved him off and watched him leave the studio. She wondered if this was such a good idea. She liked spending time with Freddie alone, even if it was spent on schoolwork. But she also was afraid of spending time with him alone, because she was worried that so much time might allow her true feelings to slip out. She didn't think she could stand his rejection. And the only way she knew to combat expressing her feelings as to verbally abuse Freddie. It didn't seem to bother him as much as it used to, but she was scared she would say something that would stop him from talking to her again. But her mouth was on autopilot much of the time.

_3_

When she came downstairs, Carly was sitting at the computer, watching videos.

"Where's Spencer?" Sam asked.

"He went worm-hunting with Socko. Don't ask. It's some sculpture thing. I hope. He left you some ham in the fridge."

"Excellent!" Sam grabbed the plate of ham and tore pieces off and stuffed them into her mouth.

"Don't forget to breathe, Sam." Sam nodded. "So how was tutoring with Freddie? I didn't hear any screams."

"I decided to let him live a while," Sam said, between bites. "It's okay, I guess, but that boy is like a parent. 'You're not applying yourself. You're smarter than you act.' Blah blah."

"Well, Sam, you are..."

"Shut up, Carls," Sam said, amicably. "I got enough from SuperNerd."

"He's just concerned about you, Sam."

"Whatever. He's just afraid it will look bad on his college applications if somebody he tutors fails."

"No, he's not, Sam."

"Whatever."

"When he left he was grumbling something about you being expelled. What's going on, Sam?"

"Nothing. I mean, Ted caught me in a prank, so he said I had to help with this literary magazine thing, since Briggs is pushing for me to be expelled."

"You have to write a poem?"

"No! Chiz. I have to find out who wrote a poem, so they can publish it in their magazine." She handed the poem to Carly. "So, do you have any idea who might have written it?"

"I don't know. Poetry's not really my thing."

"I know. I've read some of yours." Sam grinned.

"Shut up, Sam," Carly said, blushing. Sam would never let her forget just how many words she had gotten to rhyme with "biceps." "Who do you think wrote it?"

"Not sure. I have Freddie helping me with that, since he's the reason I got caught." Carly looked at her and waved it off. "He was! He was supposed to be lookout. Anyway, I think a guy wrote it to some girl he knows, but Freddie thinks one of the football guys wrote it to a teammate."

"What?"

"Well, maybe not. He's trying to get me to look at the poem 'objectively'. Anyway, I'm pretty sure the guy knows the girl fairly well."

"Maybe." Carly read the poem. "She has blue eyes."

"Yeah, I got that. Do you know any blue-eyed girls a guy is in love with?"

"You have blue eyes."

"Yeah, funny, Carls, but I'm not the type guys write poetry about. What about Sarah?"

"Guys don't write poems about her, Sam. They write limericks."

"Ouch, Shay. I'm rubbing off on you." Carly smiled. "You mind if I sleep here tonight?"

"When have I ever refused you, Sam?" Carly asked, still looking at the poem.

"Never." Sam grinned.

**A/N:I tried to write the poem as something a intelligent teenage boy in love might write. Apologies if I missed the mark. I haven't written any poetry in years, and the poetry I wrote was much darker, I would say. Although it generally didn't rhyme.**

**Happy Fourth of July to everyone. We're finally done with Day 1. On to Day 2. I hope to have a chapter up tomorrow, but don't hold me to it.**

**Thank you for reviews from Geekquality, afanoffanfic, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, and kiyokoseddie.**

**Afanoffanfic:It would seem to be the easiest solution to have Freddie let Ted know he was the one who wrote the poem, but that he would still prefer to remain anonymous. Of course, that would make this story much shorter. In the Joan of Arcadia episode, Joan, since Grace wouldn't allow her to tell people Grace wrote the poem, dropped copies of the poem from the school's roof (without the author's name). No, I think there will be things that might prevent Freddie from being able to take that simple solution.**


	4. Chapter 4:Feeling the Music Wash Over Me

Chapter 4: Feeling the Music Wash Over Me

**Disclaimer: Me no own-o.**

_Day 2_

_1_

Sam paid attention in English class. This irritated her. And, as with most things these days, she blamed Freddie for it. She had no intention of paying attention, but the teacher was talking about the Cummings poems, and they interested her. Not that she would admit that to anybody, especially Freddie. She had become an expert at not admitting things, especially to Freddie.

She read the rest of the poems, as Freddie had instructed. If he asked her, she was going to tell him she didn't crack the book open, though. She thought it was cute when he rolled his eyes.

Plus, she had liked it that he seemed so concerned about her grades. _Cut it out, Puckett. Maybe he's not into Carly anymore, but he's definitely not into you. Give him a wedgie or something, so he doesn't think you're turning soft._

Her next class was Algebra II, and she didn't pay attention. In truth, the reason she was flunking was because she didn't do the homework. And she blazed through tests without paying attention to the problems. She understood it all; she just didn't care to apply.

What she did care about were pranks. And the poem. The pranks were worrisome because Dave Wilson had pulled off one the day before. It was a variation of a Puckett classic; he had put dead fish in the teacher's water cooler. Not very inventive, but it did get him points, which Sam had none of right now. Plus, she knew the teachers were watching her even more than usual. Some of them really did seem to relish the thought of her being expelled.

The poem...well, that maybe took up more space in her mind than it should. She walked down the hall earlier that morning, looking at every girl she passed-which was somewhat difficult, since many of them wilted under the gaze of Sam Puckett. Her reputation was working against her in many ways these days. _There are a lot of girls here with blue eyes. Including me_.

She thought that looking for the object of the poem might not be the way to go. She had to look at it through whoever wrote it. Somebody who was in love. Wouldn't a person in love have some type of sign? A glow? Carly often had that. She was never in love, not _love_ love, but Carly's infatuations were still pretty glowy.

As she walked down the hallways after second period she tried to stare in the eyes of all the boys she passed, trying to see if they had that glow. That didn't work, either. The boys wilted even more than the girls had. Several of them had felt a Puckett fist of fury in their lives, and many of the others were afraid to experience it. _I haven't beat anybody up in a long time. At least a week. And he deserved it!_

Violence wasn't her go-to option anymore; she had grown up. Now she used all her maturity to perform verbal annihilations. Yep, she was growing up.

She contemplated her increasing maturity outside one of the girls' restrooms, when she remembered something Spencer had done to Gibby when Spencer was all hopped up on his prank addiction. She grinned. She did not notice when a girl and three boys ran away from the sight of that grin.

_2_

"Where's Sam?" Freddie asked. Carly looked up from her lunch plate.

"I don't know. I thought she might be with you."

"With me? Why?"

"Because you're 'study buddies,'" Carly said, laughing. "And you're friends. You guys spend more time together than I spend with either of you alone."

"That's just because you're always with your boyfriend of the week," Freddie said. Carly noted the sarcasm did not appear to contain any jealousy.

She didn't feel good about it, but she had tested her theory that Freddie was no longer in love with her, if love was what it really was. She never pushed it too hard, because she didn't want to make him think that her feelings had changed. Not that she needed to worry. Freddie didn't seem to notice the casual touches or the way she leaned over him to look at something on the computer. She only did this a few times, and always when they were alone.

If she had done these things to Freddie a few years ago, he would have probably have given her an engagement ring, even though the two of them were only fifteen at the time. Yes, he no longer thought of her that way.

Which was a relief. And a little sad. Although she knew she could never love Freddie the way he had loved her, it was nice to know there was somebody who loved her.

Freddie sat down. He looked at his plate.

"It's Tuesday."

"Yeah?" Carly said, looking at him strangely. He pointed at his plate.

"Spaghetti. And _meatballs_. No way Sam would miss meatballs. Something is wrong."

"What could be wrong, Freddie?"

"She's gonna get herself in trouble. I can feel it."

"Spidey senses tingling, Peter Parker?" Carly asked. _Sam really is rubbing off on me_. Freddie barely acknowledged the comment, whereas if Sam had said it, the two of them would have tore into a debate that would last until Carly screamed. Or sprayed them with a water bottle.

Freddie opened his back pack. As he rummaged through it, Carly saw the first aid kit his mother made him take with him. There was also a first aid kit in each room of his apartment, as well as one Mrs. Benson had insisted be put in the studio. They had actually used that one, thanks to a Sam stunt gone wrong, so Carly supposed Mrs. Benson wasn't completely crazy.

Freddie pulled a sandwich bag out of his back pack.

Carly stared, but made no comment, as Freddie forked his meatballs into the bag. _They really are good friends_, she thought. She remembered a few months before when she had noticed Sam placing a piece of paper between some of Freddie's school books as they were eating at Carly's place. Freddie had gone up to the studio to fix something, maybe to make the screen move twenty-one percent faster, and Carly had been arguing with Spencer about jack-o-lanterns. Why, she couldn't remember. She had rolled her eyes at Spencer and noticed Sam in her peripheral vision. Carly almost said something. They had been getting along so well, and Carly was concerned that Sam would ruin it. But she held her tongue.

After Freddie came down and got his books to leave, he noticed the paper. He showed it to the others: it was an advertisement for a Galaxy Wars movie marathon at the Rialto theater.

"Sounds nerdy," Sam said, and went to the refrigerator. She didn't notice Freddie smile at her. He didn't notice her smiling when he had turned back to the paper and she had walked back with a drumstick in her hand. _They're weird,_ Carly thought.

_3_

They knew something was wrong as soon as they entered the hallway. It didn't take a genius. There were too many people. And several of them were wet. Teachers were asking questions to the wet students, all of whom were girls.

"What do you mean it was in rhythm?" Mr. Howard asked one of the girls.

"I think it was the Galaxy Wars theme song," she said. She looked shock.

"How can anybody make toilets shoot out water to a theme song?" Howard asked.

"What's going on, guys?"

Carly and Freddie turned around to see Sam. Freddie opened his mouth to say something when another voice broke through.

"Sam." The three of them turned around to see Principal Franklin.

"Oh, hey, Ted. What's up?"

"Principal Franklin. Is this by any chance your handiwork?"

"Is what my handiwork?" Sam asked.

"Don't, Sam. I know about the competition. I did figure you might take our conversation seriously."

"I did, Ted," Sam said. And she sounded sincere. She was. She did take their conversation seriously. Sometimes she just couldn't resist temptation, though.

"She was in the library," Freddie said.

"Freddie!" Sam turned to him.

"Sorry, Sam. Now your reputation is ruined. Sam Puckett in the library. Oh, no!" Freddie threw up his hands in mock horror.

"What would Sam be doing in the library, Mr. Benson?" Principal Franklin asked.

"Studying," Freddie said, without hesitation. Principal Franklin blinked. He thought that under direct questioning Freddie Benson would crack. As much as Sam Puckett felt every rule was made to be broken, Freddie Benson seemed to believe in following each one without question. Principal Franklin had seen Sam's friendship with Carly and Freddie as a calming influence on her. He hadn't realized how being friends with Sam might change Freddie. Not that he was a proponent of the Sam Puckett philosophy of rules, but if anybody needed a counterbalance to somebody like Mrs. Benson, it was Freddie.

"Sam? Studying?" Sam frowned at him. _Well, that wasn't a very principal-like response_, he thought.

"You're the one making me see a tutor, Ted."

"Yes, well...what were you studying, Sam?" Sam looked at him, and Freddie broke in.

"The poetry of E. E. Cummings. Tell him, Sam." Sam glared at Freddie. She turned to Principal Franklin, who looked at her expectingly. She sighed.

"Okay, I was studying. Don't spread it around."

"Can you tell me something about one of the poems, Sam?" Principal Franklin asked. Sam didn't glare at Freddie this time; she shot a death ray at him. Freddie stood his ground.

"Yeah, Ted. Um, there's one called 'i sing of olaf glad and big.' It's like this anti-war poem. It has bad words in it. Do you know you're teaching us bad words, Ted?"

"I'm sure you already knew them all, Sam. Very well. I do hope that whoever did this doesn't push her-or his-luck and try something else." He bent down and whispered in Sam's ear: "you are very fortunate in friends." He walked away and began to have a conversation with Mr. Howard.

"What did he say?" Freddie asked.

"He said he couldn't believe what a dweeb I have for a tutor," she spat. Her cheeks were flushed.

"Whatever," Freddie said.

"You missed lunch, Sam," Carly said, trying to break the curious tension.

"Well, I was 'studying', you know. Wait...oh, man, it's Tuesday." Freddie handed her the bag he had filled with meatballs earlier.

"Thanks," Sam said, quietly. "For the meatballs, I mean."

"De nada," Freddie said. "So...you did the reading, huh?"

"Shut up, Benson," Sam said, between bites. "These are good meatballs."

"Are we ready for rehearsal tonight?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, yeah...we just can't take too much time. Me and Freddie got some sleuthing to do."

Freddie sighed. "And studying, Sam."

"Yeah, that, too. At the very least, it provides me with good alibis."

"Well, as long as you're using your education properly, Puckett," Freddie said. He paused. "So how many points was this stunt worth...for whoever did it?"

"Twenty points," Sam said, and grinned.

"Impressive."

"Isn't it, though?"

**A/N: There should be one more chapter for day 2. I was going to write the entire day as one chapter, but I kind of like these relatively, for me, shorter chapters.**

**Thank you for reviews from kiyokoseddie, Geekquality, afanoffanfic, and HotSpatulaOnFire. **

**Afanoffanfic: I don't know that Sam will be inspired to write her own poetry. Right now I have no plans to explore that. That being said, I don't know exactly every twist and turn of this story yet, so who knows? I'm kind of looking at this story as my own serial story, like Charles Dickens used to do, or Stephen King with **_**The Green Mile, **_**writing and publishing as I go, instead of having everything written in advance. At least I know it will be contained to 14 - 15 days, although it could end up being 45 chapters or so, if I keep writing multiple chapters for each day.**


	5. Chapter 5: Moves in the Game

Chapter 5: Moves in the Game

**Disclaimer: At long last, have you no sense of decency? **_**iCarly**_** never belonged to me, and it hurts that you keep bringing it up.**

_Day 2 - Evening_

_1_

Rehearsal went off, as it usually did, without a hitch. The three of them had become a nearly synchronized team. Rehearsal now usually only dealt with any props they had to set up. Carly would run through some lines. Sam didn't. They all agreed she was better when she went off the cuff, so the script just had a spot for Sam to say something. They invited Gibby, but he really wasn't allowed to participate in rehearsals. They preferred him to be off the cuff, also, because more humor was generated when nobody knew what he was going to do.

"Good job, guys," Freddie said, from behind his computer.

"Anybody want to watch a movie?" Carly asked. Gibby said he would, and Sam was about to agree, with the requisite it not be a girly movie. Freddie shook his hand at her.

"We have tutoring, Sam."

"You shake that finger at me again, dewdrop, and you might lose it," Sam said. Carly mouthed "dewdrop?" to her. Sam shrugged. She liked to try out new material every once in a while.

"Regardless, Sam, we have work to do."

"Jeez, taskmaster, don't you ever want to have any fun?"

"Why, Sam, what could be more fun than the sound of poetry dripping from your honeyed tongue?" Freddie said and smirked. He looked down and finished a few things on his computer and didn't notice the three of them staring at him.

"Oooooookay," Carly said. "Well, we'll be downstairs if you guys get finished early. Come on, Gibby." The two of them left.

"Honeyed tongue?" Sam asked. Freddie looked at her, surprised.

"What?"

_2_

"Hey, iCarliers, how'd rehearsal go?" Spencer asked after Gibby and Carly had come downstairs.

"Pretty good," Carly said, distractedly. If she didn't know better...

"What's up, Carly?" Spencer asked.

"Nothing. Just Freddie said something a little strange."

"I think he was flirting with Sam," Gibby said. He looked down with a pained expression as he flexed his thumbs.

"Freddie? Flirting with Sam?" Spencer asked.

"Well, it kind of seemed like that," Carly said.

"When's the last time Freddie's been on a date?" Spencer asked.

"Uh, he went out with this girl, Leslie, right after school ended. He said it didn't go too well," Carly said.

"Well, there you go. He's probably just exercising his flirting muscles, so he's ready when he needs them. And why not Sam? That way he doesn't waste the flirting on somebody who might think he's serious."

"You really think so, Spencer?" Carly asked.

"Sure, it's possible." Carly couldn't quite read the look on Spencer's face.

"Wait a minute, we have to exercise our flirting?" Gibby asked.

"Yeah, you don't use it, you lose it, Gibster," Spence said, winking.

"Oh, man."

_3_

"So you really think I have a honeyed tongue?"

"It's just an expression, Sam."

"So you're saying my voice is ugly-sounding." No matter how hard he looked, there was no hole for Freddie to fall into.

"No, Sam, your voice isn't ugly."

"So what would you say my voice sounded like?" Freddie groaned and rolled his eyes at the same time. Sam, who found it unbelievably cute, stared at him placidly.

"You have a very nice voice, Sam."

"Would you say it's honeyed?"

"Sam!"

"All right, let's get on with this."

"Okay, let's go over another Cummings poem."

"What about the one about the mud?" Sam asked.

"You mean 'in Just-'?" Freddie asked. They went over the poem a few times. Sam was bewildered that something that just seemed to be about two kids playing in the mud seemed to be so much more.

"You understand?" Freddie asked.

"I guess. You're saying to break the poem down into individual sections to analyze each section and then tie all the sections together?"

"You got it, Sam." He held out a hand for a high-five, which she ignored. After a moment, he brought his hand down.

"So we can do the same thing with the poem Ted gave me, right?"

"Uh, I guess so," Freddie said. _Why does she have to keep bringing everything back to this_?

Sam read the first section of the poem. "What if no one's watching" was the first line, and it was repeated twice more during the poem.

"Do you think the guy who wrote this thinks the girl is concerned about what other people think?" she asked.

"I still think it's the football team," Freddie said, smirking.

"Freddie!"

"Fine," he said, and sighed. He pretended to look at the poem again, although by now he could quote his own words without looking. "I guess so. He does mention the 'no one watching' thing a few times."

"I think this girl scares easily," Sam said. Freddie raised an eyebrow at her. "She hides behind walls. Why would somebody hide behind walls if they weren't scared?"

"Maybe she doesn't want people to see who she really is," Freddie said. _Shut up, Benson! Do something to get out of this. _

"Hmm. Maybe. The guy says he tries to climb over the wall or bust through, but she's always a step ahead." Freddie, who was about to say something insulting about ham, paused.

"So the girl just needs to open up, and she finds love. Happily ever after and all that," Freddie said. _Today's Freddie Benson has been replaced by a crazy and possibly high Freddie Benson_, he thought.

"That stuff's for fairy tales," Sam said. She saw his shoulders slump. "What you believe in 'love conquering all', Benson. That's not surprising. How many poems did you write for Carly?"

"I'm not in love with Carly," he said, without thinking. He saw a flicker of emotion he couldn't understand on Sam's face, and realized what he had said. _Ack, abort, abort. Maybe it will just be easier if I just beat myself up. Save her the trouble._ But Sam replied to the statement, and not the implication.

"You don't love Carly?" she asked. _Relax, Puckett, just because he might not love her doesn't mean you stand a chance._

"No."

"Since when?"

"I guess since soon after we broke up. I realized what you said was right. And maybe what I thought I was looking for wasn't there. With Carly."

They looked at each other for a long while, neither willing to express their thoughts.

"So, uh, about this poem. This girl is into winning," Sam said, looking back down at the poem.

"But the only thing he wants to win is her." Sam looked at him again. _Yes, Sam, I love you,_ he thought. He pictured himself standing up, producing bouquets of flowers out of thin air, an orchestra appearing behind him...no, wait, this was Sam-waiters bearing trays of meat. The corner of Freddie's mouth twitched, but he betrayed nothing else.

"Well, he says they always play a game and wonders what would happen if it was just the two of them." Sam realized she and Freddie were alone. Funny how that hadn't really sunk in for her before. She looked at the corner of his mouth where his lip had twitched. She wanted to kiss it. _Snap out of it, Sam_.

"And, next, he talks about her being his blue-eyed wonder and wondering when she'll, well, see him basically, see what he has to offer her." Freddie figured that he had spent so much time with the danger zone that was Sam Puckett that he jdidn't realize when to quit.

"And she keeps him guessing." Sam paused. "When do kisses mean something?"

"Don't kisses always mean something, Sam?"

"In the poem, I meant. He asks that. Do you think they kissed?" Sam caught herself looking at his lips again and looked away. She almost wished somebody would come in and interrupt them, before she ended up attacking his lips like they were a plate of bacon.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a metaphor or something," Freddie said. _Coward. We kissed, Sam. You and me. Your lips tasted like strawberries. And meatballs. And that combination shouldn't have worked. But it does for you. _

"And then he finishes up talking about how if she listened, she might realize he stopped playing long ago," Sam said, trying to move the talk past kissing. She sighed. "Who could it be?"

"Didn't breaking the poem down help you?"

"No. I mean, I guess. I think I can kind of see how these people are, but I can't see who they are. I would have to spend time with people at the school to do that, and that's boring."

Freddie smiled.

"It's not funny, Fredward. I don't want to get expelled."

"So tell Principal Franklin a name. Just pick somebody." She looked at him.

"No, that person would have to agree it was him. And it's too risky for me to threaten somebody into doing so. Ted's keeping an eye on me."

"Then tell him it's me," Freddie said. Sam gaped at him.

"You?"

"Sure, tell him I wrote it. I'll agree that I did. Done."

Sam thought about it. "That wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"Who'd you write the poem about?" she asked.

"Um..."

"See? Ted's not stupid. He's going to make sure you're not just covering for me."

"You."

"What?"

"I wrote the poem for you." _Maybe I am high. Did somebody put something in my Peppy Cola? _

"For me?" _Yeah, if only,_ she thought.

"Sure. We have a relationship. We're almost friends," he said, smirking. "You got blue eyes. You're always, 'Mama plays to win'. It could be you."

"What walls would I be hiding behind, Freddie?" she whispered.

Freddie's courage departed.

"Well, you know, whenever the cops are chasing you."

Sam sat back, not realizing she had been decreasing the distance between Freddie and herself. _What I wouldn't give if it was you who had written that poem about me_, she thought.

"It wouldn't work, Freddie."

"Why not?"

"Because what if whoever really wrote the poem spoke up? Then I would be just as screwed."

"Oh."

"Anyway, thanks for trying to help."

"Of course I'd help."

"Because we're 'almost friends', right?" she asked.

"Sam, of all my friends, you're the almostiest." She laughed. "Now why don't we take a look at your Algebra homework."

Sam groaned.

**A/N: Whew, that was a close one. Freddie's playing with fire. Keep him away from Spencer.**

**Thanks for reviews from: Wonderstruck, Jamizp2433, kiyokoseddie, Lady J.E.P., IHaveTheBestPenameEver, Julefor, jackpotdante, and Geekquality.**

**IHaveTheBestPenameEver: It's probably not going to be 45 - 50 chapters. Not counting the first day, school days will be probably two chapters, while weekend days will probably be one chapter. So right now (subject to change) maybe 27 chapters. **


	6. Chapter 6: Chocolate

Chapter 6: Chocolate

**Disclaimer: insert humorous comment that notifies readers that **_**iCarly**_** doesn't belong to me.**

_Day 3_

_1_

Sam was not having a good day. Normally, if somebody had replaced slides for the assembly with ones of, as Miss Wilson said, "a questionable nature", Sam would have been thrilled. Except those slides gave Steve Phillips some points. Sam was still leading among the eleven of them (Rip-Off Rodney had dropped quickly, once the time and effort started to cut into profit), but she had expected to already blow by all the competition by this point.

That had been the first thing. The second thing was Ms. Briggs' smug face looking at her all throughout class. Sam could just feel the thought wave emanating off her: _expelled, expelled, expelled_. And Sam couldn't risk doing anything about it.

And Freddie. Well, Freddie was just frustrating. Okay, she often found Freddie frustrating. But the fact that she kept thinking about Freddie...that was just pushing the frustration a little too far. If it hadn't been Freddie who was doing it, she would have sworn she was being flirted with last night. But Freddie didn't flirt. Not with her. Not with tomboy, smart-mouthed, slap-happy Sam Puckett.

Clearly, what she needed to do was get away from the situation. Tell Freddie she decided to find the poet by herself, that he was holding her back with his nubby ways. The total nerdocity of him. His Freddieness.

The fact she daydreamed about kissing him. That one she wouldn't mention to him.

She would have to have him replaced as a tutor, too. He'd like that, anyway. She had never been in the situation, but she imagined tutoring Sam Puckett was probably a headache and a half. He'd _appreciate_ it.

Not that it mattered, she found out. Ted stopped her before she even got all the words out of her mouth.

"That's not going to happen, Sam."

"Why not?"

"One, it wouldn't be fair to Mr. Benson. May I remind you he is doing this for his college applications? Two, it wouldn't be fair to you."

"Fair to me? Come on, Ted."

"Principal Franklin. I have reports from your English teacher that you actually participated in class. And your Algebra teacher said you turned in homework. I believe the dear lady almost fainted. Obviously, Mr. Benson is a good influence on you. So he is to remain your tutor."

_Freddie is going to pay for this_, Sam thought, even as she realized it was in no way his fault.

"Oh, and Sam? You've met the school nurse, correct? I believe she's seen much of your handiwork. Did you know she and Mrs. Benson went to nursing school together? And that Mrs. Benson often has Nurse Bennett check Freddie for any 'anomalies.'"

Sam grunted.

"I hope you have a wonderful school day, Sam. Please do try to stay out of trouble."

_2_

Sam did her best to avoid Freddie throughout the day. She knew she would have to see him at lunch, unless she planned to skip. Skip lunch two days in a row? Mama didn't do that. She could distract herself with food, though.

But Freddie wasn't there.

"Where's the dork at?" she asked Carly.

"He said he had to do a few things. He told me to tell you if he didn't see you that you guys were going to have your normal tutoring time."

Sam grunted; this seemed the most appropriate response today. She fell upon her defenseless lunch.

"Carly, can I ask you something?"

"What's up, Sam?"

"Did Freddie seem a little strange last night? Do you think he might-"

"Have been flirting with you?" Carly finished.

"Yeah, you think he was?"

"I talked to Spencer about it, and he said guys sometimes do that to keep in practice. It seems weird, but Spencer's dating somebody new every week. So he's got the flirting part down, just not any other relationship stuff."

"So Freddie was practicing with me?"

"I guess. Spencer said he probably picked you, since you would be the last person to take him seriously."

"Oh," Sam said. Carly looked at her.

"You don't like him, do you, Sam?"

"Like Freddie? Are you kidding? What has happened since I've known him that would make you think I like him?"

"Well...no, I guess it wouldn't make sense for you to like him. Even though he's sweet. And kind. And funny...in his own way."

"Are you sure you don't like him, Carly?" Sam asked mockingly, although she was afraid of the answer.

"No. No, I mean, maybe at some point after the taco truck, I thought...but he never asked me again, and now it would seem weird, like dating a cousin or something."

"Well, Freddie hates me anyway. So the thought of us-"

"He doesn't hate you, Sam."

"I wouldn't blame him. I have tortured the boy." Carly sighed.

"Okay, Sam, let me just talk a little bit before you get all...Samish on me. I promise if you do that I won't bring it up again." She looked expectedly at Sam, who nodded at her. "Brace yourself, Sam: you and Freddie are friends. Shush," she admonished, holding up a finger as Sam tried to speak. "You care about each other. I know you would absolutely be against the idea, but I think the idea of you and Freddie as a couple is cute."

"Cute?"

"Yes, you know. Opposites attract. Boy and girl pretend to hate each other when secretly they're in love."

"You've been watching too many Nicholas Sparks movies, Carly. Besides, you forget that I've seen Freddie Benson in love. With you. He would never do anything for me like he did for you."

"It wasn't love, Sam; it was a crush. Freddie knows that, too. And Freddie would absolutely do stuff for you. He has done stuff for you."

"Like what?"

"Well, he's tutoring you, isn't he? And I'm sure you're not making it easy for him. And...Sam, if I tell you this, you have to promise you won't tell Freddie I told you."

"Tell me what?"

"You have to promise, Sam."

"Fine, I promise. What did the boy prince do?"

"You remember Missy?" Sam snorted. Like she could forget Missy. Her stomach rolled every time she thought of Missy. And of her Persian chocolate. So deadly, and yet so delicious. "Well, she didn't win that cruise. Freddie did. And he gave it up to get rid of her."

Sam stared at Carly. She remembered how she had rubbed it in Freddie's face that she had been right about Missy, even though Mr. High-and-Mighty Benson hadn't believed Sam. And Freddie had said nothing.

"I got to go, Carly."

"Sam, you promised."

"I won't say anything, Carly, all right?"

_3_

She found him in the library.

"Whatcha doing, nub?"

He looked around at her.

"I, uh, noticed that the paper has a watermark on it, one I've seen on paper the school uses. So I've been checking to see if one of the computers was used to write the poem."

"How'd you do that?"

"I just linked to the central server. It keeps backups of everything that is done on all the computers."

"Are you supposed to be able to do that, Freddie?"

He flushed. "Not necessarily. Doesn't matter anyway. If somebody used a computer at school to write it, they didn't leave a trace. They could have written it and printed without saving. Or they could have deleted it after they printed."

"Wouldn't there still be some type of record?"

"Yeah, but if you know what you're doing, you can get rid of it pretty easily. There's probably a good sixty, seventy people here who could do it." Sam frowned. Freddie took it in that she appeared to believe him. He hadn't lied; that made it easier. He had checked the system for any trace. He just knew that he had already removed any already.

"Hey, you know who I was thinking about today?" Sam asked. Freddie shook his head. "Missy Robinson."

"Why were you thinking about her?"

"Oh, somebody had some chocolate at lunch, and I just remembered the chocolate she tried to poison me with. You know, that you didn't believe me about."

Freddie sighed. "Sam, I already told you that you were right about her. That was years ago. Why are you bringing it up now?" _And why are you staring at me like that?_

"I just like to remind you every few years how wrong you are about everything," she said. He remembered the other time she had talked about doing something every few years. _"I'm just gonna apologize every few years so I can start fresh again."_ That had been right before they had shared their first kiss.

"Noted. Anyway, I can't find anything here, so I guess we will have to figure something out."

"Okay," she said. The poem, for the moment, wasn't anywhere near the top of her list. "Yeah, Missy sure would have ruined a lot of things around here. It's a good thing she won that cruise."

He was good. It made her wonder how much else he had been able to slip past her. She only saw that momentary flicker in his eyes because she was paying so much attention. Freddie, who everybody knew was unable to tell a lie, almost got a lie past her. How much had he lied to her about before?

"Yeah, well, things have a way of working out. Say, I missed lunch because of this, so I'm gonna grab something out of the vending machine. I'll see you at Carly's, right?" She nodded, and he left.

Freddie had won the cruise and given it away to Missy. For her. And he had never told her about it. Her heart fluttered at the thought. But then it stopped. Because he had lied.

_Had he?_ She thought about it. He had never said he didn't give away the cruise. He had never said he won the cruise. He had agreed that Sam had been right about Missy and asked why she had brought it up.

_So what would he do if I asked him directly if he gave away the cruise to Missy? Would he lie about it? Would he tell me the truth?_ But the problem with that is that she knew more than anybody that Freddie was no dummy. He might be gullible, although he wasn't as much as he had been before. But he was smart. He would wonder why she would ask him that after so long. And what could she say that wouldn't break her promise to Carly?

For now, she decided to just concentrate on the fact that Freddie had done something for her she had thought he would only do for a girl he loved. Someone like Carly.

_3_

Her good mood lasted until the last period. That was when she found out Steve Phillips had replaced the pre-recorded end-of-day announcements, so that it sounded like, instead of talking about the next day's lunch menu, Mr. Howard was commenting on how each food item would change the pitch and tone of a person's flatulence. Steve was now only three points behind Sam.

And Sam hadn't even thought of doing one prank today.

_Stupid Freddie_.

**A/N: Some people have expressed a concern that Freddie might be letting information slip too quickly, since I have said this story will cover at least the two weeks until Sam has to give the name of the poet. I never said that Sam wouldn't find out quickly. I also never said she would. As with many things, there is an ebb and flow.**

**Thank you for reviews from jackpotdante, lovethispain, Moviepal, fireman35, Geekquality, Lady J. E. P., and ShooshYeah35.**


	7. Chapter 7: Poetry in the Park

Chapter 7: Poetry in the Park

**Disclaimer: Seriously, do we have to do this every time, or can we just do it in the first section. Dan owns **_**iCarly**_**.**

_Day 3 - Evening_

_1_

"Spencer!"

"What's up, Carly?"

"You have got to stop Gibby. After you talked about flirting last night, he's spent the entire day flirting with people. He flirted with the head cheerleader. He almost got the entire football team trying to beat him up. He flirted with me! He called me his 'raven-haired beauty'. He even flirted with Ms. Briggs." She shivered at the thought.

After he finished his own shiver, Spencer asked, "Raven-haired beauty?"

Carly flushed. "I didn't say he was incorrect, just that it was strange."

"Did he flirt with Sam?"

"Sam? No way. Do you think he wants his thumbs broken again?"

"Hmm," Spencer said.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Spencer..." Sam and Freddie came in together.

"I don't know how it's my fault you didn't get to pull a prank. Hey, Carly, Spencer."

"It just is, so just accept it," Sam said, getting frustrated. She knew she was taking it out on him because her feelings were out of control. Freddie looked at her.

"You're right, Sam. I sincerely apologize, and I would be pleased to assist you in planning and implementing your next prank." Sam stared at him. "Are you ready to start tutoring?"

"Uh, sure," Sam said. She wasn't often thrown off, but Freddie had done it. She had been expecting his usual protest, and she had her next five statements planned.

They went upstairs, with Carly staring at him. She turned around to see Spencer smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing, calling Gibby." He picked up the phone and began to dial.

_2_

"That's good, Sam. I have to be honest, I don't really think you need any tutoring on Algebra."

"Great, we can tell Ted, and I'll catch you later," she said.

"You might not need tutoring, but you still need supervision on completing homework."

"I don't need a supervisor, Fredward."

"Fine, think of me as your motivational coach. Plus, we still need to work on your English."

"Blah." Freddie looked at her.

"Come on, let's take a walk."

"Where? What about the English?"

"We'll still do it. We're just gonna take another approach."

"Freddie."

"I'll buy you a Fatshake."

"Okay."

_3_

They walked through the park, Sam sucking happily on her Fatshake. She had ordered the largest size they had, which was almost too much for her-not because she couldn't drink it all, but because it was hard to get her hands around it. She was hoping to make Freddie upset, not because she had any particular desire to cause him pain or despair, but just because doing so made her feel like she was in a comfort zone. In that zone, she picked on Freddie. He rolled his eyes and insulted her back. Freddie, it seemed, had forgotten the rules. He paid for the Fatshake without no protest, no eye roll, nothing. He had apologized for something they both knew wasn't his fault. And she was still thinking about the Missy situation.

"Stop."

"Stop? Here? Freddie, we're in the middle of the park."

"Exactly. Look around. What do you see?"

"Freddie, are you high? Do we need you to watch a few after school specials?"

"Sam, you know that William Carlos Williams poem you had to read?"

"The wheelbarrow thing? Yeah."

"Well, a lot of that poem has to do with the detail, the picture-image. You need to be able to look at things the same way, to be able to pick out details."

"This is stupid."

"There's a smoothie at the end of it."

"Freddie, do you think you can just use food to train me like one of those Pavlov dogs?" Sam asked.

"Well, look who let some education slip out? No, I don't think I can train you. I think, however, that I can bribe you."

"Fine. I'm ordering a Super Large, though." She looked around. "There's a bunch of kids around. That one is going to push that other one down. Some old people."

"You're picking out the big details. Go deeper." She rolled her eyes.

"Can't get any deeper than you, Benson. All right, There's a squirrel up in the tree. The sky...it kind of looks like one of those multicolored popsicles you get from the ice cream truck. What are you smiling at, Freddie?"

"Nothing, you're just starting to get it. Close your eyes?"

"Are you insane? I close my eyes, and you're going to do something."

"Sam, I won't. Trust me." She looked at him, into the darkness of his eyes against the popsicle sky. She closed her eyes.

"Now describe it."

"Describe what?"

"Describe the park."

"I can't, Freddicus, you made me close my eyes."

"So you can't see. What other ways can you use to describe your surroundings?" _What am I, Helen Keller_, Sam thought.

"Okay, uh, I can smell my Fatshake. I think a dog dropped a load somewhere around here. There's a breeze. Somebody has a corndog." Freddie looked around and saw that, yes, about fifty feet away, somebody was eating a corndog. "I hear a siren some blocks away." She opened her eyes. "Are you wearing cologne?"

"I always wear cologne."

"SInce when?"

"A couple of years. Why?"

"Shouldn't you be able to shave before you use cologne, Freddie?" He rolled her eyes, and somehow she felt better. She thought the cologne had a pleasant muskiness and wondered why she had never noticed before. "So, is the lesson over for tonight? 'Cause I got hijinks to plan."

He shrugged. "I guess. You can pick your smoothie up," he said, holding out money to her. "I'm gonna stay out here a little bit longer." She reached for the money, and then pulled back.

"It feels better when I see you pay for it yourself, Benson." He laughed and put the money back in his pocket. He sat down on the grass and wrapped his arms around his knees. After a moment, Sam sat down near him, arranging her legs Indian-style. They sat silently, watching the sun slowly sink first to a purple bruise, than fading darkness.

"I won the cruise," Freddie said.

"What?" Sam said. She didn't need to act surprised; his statement _had_ surprised her. He turned to her.

"Cut it out, Sam. I know you know. I figured there had to be a reason you brought it up earlier. Sam Puckett doesn't push something that hard unless she has an ulterior motive. So I thought about it, and I figured Carly must have told you for some reason."

"Nobody told me anything. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know, Sam, lying usually works when people don't know you well as I know you. Don't worry, I'm not mad at Carly. I never told her she couldn't tell you. I just figured it was understood between us."

Sam dropped the act. "Why wouldn't you want me to know?"

"Because that's not us. It's not what we do. We're the bickering sidekicks. I just figured you wouldn't want that hanging over your head or anything."

"Why tell me now?"

"You already know. And, well, it's stupid. We're friends, Sam. I think it's silly that we play like we're not. We've been friends for a long time. I helped get rid of Missy. You helped me with my mom and Lewbert. Sure, most of your help usually ends up with me being hurt..." He shrugged.

"We're friends?" Sam asked.

"Fraid so. Gonna throw up?"

She smiled. "I might, except I know I have a smoothie coming my way."

They sat there for five more minutes, until the sun had disappeared completely. Freddie stood up and held his hand out to Sam. She thought of protesting, but she still had the humongous Fatshake cradled under one arm. _What the heck. We're friends, right?_ And she allowed him to help her up.

"So," he said. "What's the plan with this prank?"

She favored him with a grin that shone even in the darkness.

**A/N: I know this chapter is a little short, but it conveyed everything I wanted to convey at the moment. I was going to have Spencer set something on fire just to fill some space, but who wants that? **

**Thanks for reviews from kiyokoseddie, Moviepal, Lady J. E. P., jackpotdante, Kressxblack, Geekquality, and ShooshYeah35.**

**ShooshYeah35: I wrote (although I can't remember if it was in an author's note or one of my stories) that there is an ebb and flow to Sam and Freddie, a tidal quality. So while, as readers, we may think that they should realize they both have feelings for each other, I see them as getting close and pulling back, each for their own reasons. Perhaps some people think that Sam should realize Freddie wrote the poem and that it was about her, but she just agreed that they were friends, and how long did that take her? I can honestly say that, now, I don't know when exactly Sam will find out about the poem, if she does. I somewhat know the end result of the story, but between here and there is a journey on which I'm not sure what highways and dirt roads we may travel on. And...occasional gushing is fine. I think me ego can take it. **


	8. Chapter 8: Tingled

Chapter 8: Tingled

**Disclaimer: I almost won **_**iCarly**_** on E-bay, but I was sniped at the last second.**

_Day 4 - School_

_1_

Sam and Freddie arrived at the school early in the morning, probably the earliest Sam arrived at school. It was probably the earliest she had gotten up. But it was going to be good. She was surprised Freddie hadn't put up a protest, especially after she had told him what her plan was.

"Test it on me first," he had said. She stared at him.

"You really trust me?"

"Not really," he said, with a laugh. "But I'd rather you just kill me than an entire classroom."

She tested it, and he said it wasn't that bad, especially since he had been expecting it. Once he had verified the safety he worked with her on the plan.

"You know, you're going to have to do this in more than just one classroom," he said.

"Why?"

"Because if you do it just in your classroom, then the finger of blame is going to point at you right away. And you can't risk that. You should actually not do it in your classroom."

"How am I going to do that?"

"We'll set it up in other classrooms, like one I'm in and one Gibby is in. Carly won't help, but I might be able to get a pal in the AV club to help. When you're ready you text me and Gibby, and we set them off."

"How do I get credit for it, though? People are going to want proof."

"Just film it on your phone. You have a password on it, so nobody will be able to see it unless you show them."

So she did that. The school was quiet when they got there, and the sound of their voices echoed throughout the hallways. Sam was surprised that Freddie seemed to be getting into the prank so much. _Maybe I'm a bad influence on him_, she thought.

At 10:12, when Sam, Freddie, and Gibby were in their different classes, she sent the text to both Freddie and Gibby. She wrote that within thirty seconds of receiving the text they would do it. Freddie had actually figured out a way to install it in four classrooms, none of which Sam was in.

"The only problem is that because of distance we have to use remotes," Freddie said. "Gibby and I just have to get rid of them before anybody catches us with them."

Thirty seconds after she sent the text, Sam heard shouts from other classrooms. She hid her smile behind hands.

When the bell rang she hurried into the hall as quickly as she could. People were talking to each other about what happened. She saw Freddie and Gibby slapping hands and barely caught Gibby transferring the device to Freddie, who went off in another direction.

"You're coming with me," said a voice behind her. She turned to see Mr. Howard staring down at her.

_2_

"I didn't do anything, Ted," she said.

"His name is Principal Franklin, Puckett," Mr. Howard said. He stood a little behind Ted, slightly to his left. She hated the way Mr. Howard said her name. She didn't mind when Freddie called her Puckett, but when Mr. Howard did it, he made it sound like a disease oozing off his lip.

"Fine, 'Principal Franklin', I didn't do anything."

"She is responsible for this. I know it," Mr. Howard said, pointing a finger at Sam.

"It wasn't even in her classroom," Principal Franklin said.

"She had help," Mr. Howard said.

"Who would have helped me?" Sam asked. She disliked how close to the truth Mr. Howard was. She had no problem lying to him, but felt bad about being dishonest to Principal Franklin.

"That Shay girl."

Sam laughed, and she saw Principal Franklin suppress a chuckle behind his hand. "There's no way Carly Shay would be involved in..."

"In what, Puckett?" Mr. Howard asked easily.

"In whatever you're accusing me of. What are you accusing me of, by the way?" she asked.

"it seems that somebody rigged desks in four classrooms to send a shock to students," Principal Franklin.

"Electrocution!" Mr. Howard said enthusiastically, as if he could smell burning student flesh. Sam caught Principal Franklin rolling his eyes.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it electrocution. The shock was at a very low level and surprised people more than hurt them. However," he said, gesturing to Sam, "we still take these types of 'pranks' very seriously. As you well know, Sam."

"I wish I could help you, Te...Principal Franklin, but as you pointed out, I wasn't even in those classrooms."

"That Benson boy. That's who it must have been," Mr. Howard said. "I always knew he was a troublemaker." Sam's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't let Freddie get in trouble.

"Benson? Pull a prank? Are you insane?" she asked. She looked at Mr. Howard. "Don't answer that. Freddie Benson would never be involved in anything like that. The nub's too whipped for anything of the sort. You've met his mother."

"Yes, well, Miss Puckett, I believe we've exhausted this topic. If you feel like you have any light to shed on the subject, please let me know. You are dismissed." Principal Franklin gestured for her to leave.

Mr. Howard came around the desk and stood in front of her. "Confess!" he shouted, pointing his finger at her. She smirked at him and left the room. If he stuck his finger at her one more time, she might bite it off. Of course, she had no idea where that finger had been, so maybe not.

_3_

"So how'd it go?" Freddie asked.

They were sitting in an empty classroom. He had been waiting for her while she was in the principal's office, and she had gestured for him to follow her.

"Not bad. Ted knows I did it, but he can't prove anything. Howard...Howard was freaky. He actually suggested it was you who helped me." Freddie blanched a little.

"What'd you say?"

"I told him he was right, and he called your mother." She laughed at the look on his face. "Relax. It's probably a good thing that Howard brought your name up. Now nobody will believe you had anything to do with it. Everybody thinks he's insane." Freddie nodded, and she smiled as his face slowly turned back to its normal color.

"So what did you really say, Sam?"

"I said that there was no way a nub like you would be involved in something like that." He nodded, not reacting to being called a nub. Being called a nub by Sam was like being called Freddie by anybody else. "Why did you do it, Freddie?"

"I promised you I would."

"You could have gotten in trouble," she said.

He shrugged.

"You mom could have found out," she said, sing-songingly. He looked at her.

"I promised you, Sam. And I already told you that we're friends. You're just gonna have to get used to it. Besides." He paused. "It was sort of fun."

Sam stared at him. "Oh, no, I've corrupted him. What would his mother say?"

"'That young lady is a bad influence on you and will only lead you to a life of ruin and regret,'" Freddie said.

"Did she actually say that about me?" Sam asked.

"No," he said. "She said that about Carly. My mom's actually never really said anything bad about you. Well, no more than anybody else."

Sam laughed. "She really hates Carly, doesn't she?"

"She really, really does," Freddie said. They laughed.

"I guess that ruins your wedding plans," Sam said.

"I already said I don't feel about Carly like that anymore, Sam," he said. She knew, but she wouldn't admit she liked hearing him say it again. It just seemed too _girly_.

"Well, you ready to go, friend?" Freddie asked.

"Stop calling me that," she said.

"What, friend. I'm sorry, friend, I didn't think it would bother you if I called you my friend. Because you are. My friend."

"Shut up, Freddie," she said, laughing. She stood up and moved away from him. He got up and followed her.

"Where you going, friend?"

"Freddie, stop calling me that."

"Calling you what, friend?"

"That's it," she said. And she jumped on him. He fell backwards, and she straddled his stomach, easily holding his wrists down to the floor. He was stronger than he used to be, but Sam was one of the toughest people in school. Plus, he never really fought back with her.

"Are you going to stop?" she asked, laughter still in her voice.

"Stop what, friend?" he asked, smiling up at her.

"You call me that one more time, and I'm gonna punch you, Benson," she said.

"Would it be a friendly punch?" he asked and smirked at her. She was about to reply before she realized the position they were in. Suddenly all humor went out of the situation for her. Freddie must have sensed something, also, because he began to look uncomfortable.

"I, uh, gotta get to class, Sam."

"Yeah, me, too. Don't need to be expelled for tardiness," she said, and got up quickly. She was out of the room before he had even stood up.

"This isn't good," Freddie said to himself.

In the hallway, Sam leaned against the wall. _This isn't good_, she thought. Her feelings for Freddie were hard enough to handle when she only saw him a little of the day and when she was able to use Carly as a buffer. What if Freddie found out? She could imagine that. _"I said we were friends, Sam, but I never said I saw you as a girl. You're almost like one of my guy pals."_

Pal.

_4_

Sam found Carly being overwhelmed by Gibby. It seemed after his conversation with Spencer Gibby had decided to concentrate all his flirting on Carly.

"Beat it, Gibster," Sam said.

"Until our paths cross again, I bid farewell, my sweet princess," Gibby said to Carly and moved down the hall. Sam stared at him.

"You don't think he wrote that poem, do you, Carls?" she asked. Carly didn't answer. "Carly?" She looked at her. Carly appeared to have a glazed look on her face.

"Carly! Come on, you're not falling for Gibby, are you?" Carly shook her head and looked at Sam.

"No! No, it's just nice to be complimented."

"Isn't he still with that Tasha chick, anyway?"

"No, they kind of drifted apart. It probably didn't help being at different schools."

"Well, there you go. Make your move."

"Sam! It's not like that."

"Whatever, we have other problems to worry about."

"Oh, no, Sam, they didn't find it was you who did the prank this morning, did they?"

"No. Why would you think it was me?"

"Come on, Sam. I'm your best friend. Of course it was you." Sam frowned in a "okay, you got me" way. "So what's the problem?"

"Okay, you have to be my best friend when I tell you this, but you can't be Carly."

"What do you mean?" Carly asked.

"I don't want you to act like Carly. I don't need your...Carlyness. I just need to talk to somebody about it."

"Talk about what?" Carly asked, trying to gauge just how offended she should be about the "Carlyness" comment.

"I like Freddie."

**A/N: Ebb and tide, people, remember. Don't you just wish people could get over themselves and just admit to others that they love them? Of course, if that was the case this story would have been 100 words long. I understand that Sam needed to talk to somebody, but was Carly the right choice? We'll see (and by we'll see, I don't mean that she wasn't the right choice; I just mean I'm being a jerk and teasing you. I think I might have some Sam in me).**

**Thank you for reviews from PurpleJerk, jackpotdante, Moviepal, kiyokoseddie, Geekquality, Flutter360, ShooshYeah35, and .**

**PurpleJerk: As for Sam having perspective, I think it's both just something she is and also because Freddie is involved. I've noticed that people who seem to love pushing buttons (which Sam does) just have that quality of knowing just what button to push.**

**Geekquality: I don't know if Spencer will set anything on fire, but he will still have a part to play. Especially once Carly gets hold of him.**

**: Fine, here's an update. Now can I have my mind back?**


	9. Chapter 9: It Gets Hot

Chapter 9: It Gets Hot

**Disclaimer: I owned **_**iCarly**_** once, but then some shyster took advantage of my gambling addiction. **

_Day 4 - Afternoon_

_1_

_They slammed the door in my face_, Freddie thought. He stood outside Carly's apartment a moment, pondering this. Actually, it wasn't so much that they slammed the door in his face; it was more like they had forgotten he was there. He had come up to Sam and Carly in the hall earlier, and he knew right away he had interrupted something. He was used to death rays emanating from Sam's eyes, but Carly usually didn't join in. She did this time, though. He tried talking to them, but whatever words they gave him trailed off. The entire trip home they were doing some type of communication with their eyes, completely ignoring him. He was getting a little upset. He was going to bring up Carly's stupid "no secrets" promise she had forced them to make, but he didn't think it would be wise to bring up something that reminded him so much of kissing Sam.

He waited a second longer to see if they would remember he was there and come apologize to him. Okay, for Carly to apologize to him. No, nobody came. Finally, he opened the door.

He didn't see Sam and Carly. He did see Spencer in the middle of the living room, working on what appeared to be a nine-foot-tall robot skeleton.

"Que pasa, Spencer? Where did Sam and Carly go?"

"Not sure. Carly dragged Sam upstairs." Spencer looked in the direction of the stairs. "I'm not sure you really want to get involved in whatever it is, Freddie. That way lies danger."

Freddie nodded. Now that he had a moment to think about it, he realized it would be safer for him to find out from Carly after whatever it was had calmed down.

"What are you working on, Spencer?"

"Fire robot!" Spencer exclaimed and grinned. Freddie took a step back. _Maybe it would just be safer if I went upstairs and shoved my tongue down Sam's throat, called her Samantha, and told her she had to become a vegetarian_, Freddie thought.

"You're making a sculpture with fire?"

"Yeah, see along these beams-all the holes? Fire will come out of each one of them. It will be like a Metal Burning Man!" Freddie looked. There had to be thousands of holes.

"You didn't think that, maybe, that would be a little dangerous?" Freddie tried to keep the fear out of his voice.

"What could go wrong? I'm going to light it. Stand back a little." Freddie stood back a lot.

Spencer held a lighter near the bottom of the sculpture. Freddie tensed. Spencer reached further in. He looked up.

"It won't light."

_2_

"What do you mean, you like Freddie?" Carly asked.

"Didn't you watch that film in health, Carls? I thought it was pretty clear."

"Not funny, Sam. I know that. But how do you like _Freddie_?"

"So you think I shouldn't like Freddie?"

"We talked about this already, Sam, and you seemed to indicate you didn't like him."

Sam shrugged.

"Sam, how long have you liked him?" Sam wouldn't look at Carly. "Sam, you didn't like him when he and I were dating, did you?" Sam didn't say anything. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. If I had known..."

"It's not your fault, Carly. You're the kind of girl he likes, not me."

"That's not true! I mean, I don't know if he likes you, but I do know he doesn't like me that way...anymore. What we should..."

"No, Carly, I said no Carlyness."

"Why not, Sam?"

Sam looked at her. "What if he doesn't like me? I don't want to lose him as a friend."

Carly was her best friend and knew Sam better than anyone, but even she sometimes forgot under the tough girl exterior just how sensitive Sam really was. "Okay, Sam, if you don't want to do anything, I won't make you. But you did come to me about it, so you must have wanted something."

"I just need to talk to somebody about it, Carly, and obviously I couldn't talk to Fredweirdo." Carly smiled at that. Even after admitting she liked Freddie, Sam still called him names.

"But what prompted you bringing it up now?"

"Oh, he's all like 'we're friends, you're my friend, we don't really hate each other, blah blah' and then I jumped on him for calling me that. And I was straddling him-"

"You were what? You really did pay attention in health class."

"Not like that. I was just holding him down, and I realized how close we were together, and I thought about how close we were, and it reminded me...this is all your fault!"

"How is it my fault, Sam?"

"If you hadn't been, 'oh, you ruined Freddie's life' I never would have gone on the fire escape, and we never would have kissed, and I wouldn't feel like a stupid girl." Carly laughed. "It's not funny."

"I'm sorry that...you feel like a girl. Sam, Freddie's a good guy. If you two did get together, it would be a good thing."

"You can't say anything, Carls."

"I won't, Sam. Say, you don't think Freddie wrote that poem, do you?" Sam looked at her.

"Freddie? Write a poem? Did he ever write you a poem?"

Carly shook her head. "No. But, well, just look at it from the point-of-view of Freddie writing it. You have blue eyes. Some of that stuff could apply to you."

"Freddie's a tech-nerd, not a literature nerd."

"And yet he's tutoring you in poetry. And taking you on walks in the park. I think the boy may be dating you without you knowing it, Sam." Sam laughed it off. The thought of Freddie Benson...wooing her. Yeah, right.

Carly's phone vibrated. She looked at it. "Oh, I forgot Freddie was with us."

"What did he say?"

"He says Spencer is trying to set a sculpture on fire." She shrugged, attributing it to normal Spencer-fire dynamics.

"I don't think I can spend time with him tonight, Carly."

"He's tutoring you, Sam."

"So tell him you're helping me." Carly looked at her.

"Okay, I will. But only for tonight. And only if you promise to let me actually help you with your homework. I don't need Freddie griping at me."

"Fine. What are you going to tell him?'

"What always works with guys," Carly said, smiling.

_3_

As soon as Freddie saw her coming downstairs, he began pantomiming to her. She looked in the direction he was pointing, and she saw that Spencer really was trying to set the sculpture on fire.

"Spencer!" His head shot up.

"What?"

"There's a new barista at the coffee shop. She's really cute."

"Getting coffee," Spencer said, and dashed at the door.

"Thank you," Freddie said. "He actually has gas running through the sculpture. I'm gonna ask my mom if we can move."

"I'll stop him, Freddie, don't worry."

"Good. So what's going on? Sam and I need to do our tutoring."

"Sam can't do tutoring tonight, Freddie."

"But I have to. Principal Franklin said..."

"Sam's having issues. Woman issues."

"Oh," Freddie said, flummoxed. He wasn't sure how to proceed.

"I just don't think you want to be with her when she's in that type of mood. I mean, you know how Sam usually is."

"Yeah," Freddie said, distractedly. He didn't want to admit how much he was looking forward to spending time with Sam. He didn't notice Carly trying to pry into his soul with her eyes.

"So I thought I would take over tutoring just for tonight. So if you want to just tell me what she needs to do."

"Yeah," Freddie repeated, and pulled out the schedule he had created for Sam. He wrote what they were going to work for tonight on a separate piece of paper, while Carly looked over the schedule. It was extremely detailed. She knew Freddie was detail-oriented, but it seemed he had put a lot of time and effort into planning Sam's tutoring.

"So," Carly said, after he had handed her the lesson plan, "I never knew you were a poetry guy, Freddie." She meant to keep her promise to Sam, but that didn't mean she couldn't mosey close to that line where the promise lay.

"What? No, not really."

"I mean, you seem to know a lot about it, and Sam was talking about your little trip to the park."

"Oh, well, I just read this book about how to view literature like an English professor. It helped when it came to tutoring." Now he did notice Carly seemed to be prying with her eyes. She actually looked a little deranged. "Are you okay, Carly?"

"Me? Fine. How are you?"

"Fine. thanks for asking," he said, confused.

"Hey, remember in eight grade we had to write poems in English?"

"Yeah," he said. He felt danger warnings go off in his head. But there was no way Carly could know about the poem. RIght?

"What did you write about?"

"A tree." Carly looked disappointed.

She thought she could ask one more question without stamping all over her promise to Sam. "You never wrote any poetry after that, did you?"

He laughed. "That tree poem was pretty bad, Carly. I don't know why anybody would continue writing poetry after that."

Carly was about to say something when Spencer came in.

"We need to take you to the optometrist, Carly. That was a guy."

Carly thought about it. "Was he cute?"

Spencer looked at her. "Yeah, but I still don't think it was worth me going down there. Although he does make a good cup of java."

"Well, since I'm not tutoring Sam today, I'm gonna catch up on some of my own homework," Freddie said. He didn't want to talk to Carly about poetry any longer. He left.

"Spencer," Carly said. "Do you think Freddie is a good liar?"

"Freddie? Lie? I don't really think of those two things together." Neither did Carly, but she was still bothered about his response to the poetry question. Somehow she had to figure out the answer without breaking her promise to Sam.

"By the way, Spencer, you are not lighting that thing on fire."

"But, Carly, it would be so awesome."

"Spencer, do you remember when you set my bedroom on fire? On my birthday?"

"Fine, I won't light it," he said, pouting.

Carly looked at him, and her eyes widened.

"Spencer."

"Yeah."

"Your coffee's on fire." He looked down and saw that his cup of coffee indeed had flames rising from it. He ran to the kitchen and poured the coffee in the sink, and turned the faucet on over the cup.

"How does that even happen?"

**A/N: I'm really trying to not have Carly stick her nose in Sam and Freddie's business, and yet somehow it seems like she might anyway, whether I want it or not. **

**Thank you for reviews from jackpotdante, Flutter360, PurpleJerk, Moviepal, WahooPunchPurple, kiyokoseddie, PurpleJerkWarrior, Geekquality, and ShooshYeah35.**

**PurpleJerk: I don't know that Gibby will get with Carly. I never actually planned to have them have much interaction, but once Spencer brought up the flirting issue, it just seemed to happen naturally. Much like Carly staying out of people's business, this might happen whether I plan it or not. I'm not one who really sees Gibby and Carly as a serious relationship, and yet I did have them get together in another story (although that relationship didn't last long). Maybe I have an illness. **

**Moviepal: I don't know how sexy I can have them get, since I have this as a K+ rating. Sam's motor is running. I guess most of the revving up will be under the hood. I'm gonna stop now before I get too punny.**

**WahooPunchPurple: Wishes are granted. Actually, I originally planned on just having the robot sculpture not being able to be lit, just to torture people, but it must be a Shay family trait to force their stories a way different than I planned to go.**

**PurpleJerkWarrior: I pretty much tazered four classrooms of students. What's more lighthearted than that?**


	10. Chapter 10: Stuck on You

Chapter 10: Stuck on You

**Disclaimer: I was going to leave out a disclaimer here, but I didn't want you to think that, despite not owning **_**iCarly**_** for the previous nine chapters, that I somehow own it for this one.**

_Day 5 _

"Sam, wait up!"

She turned to see Freddie jogging down the hall toward her. "Fredward."

"So, are you feeling better, uh, after..."

"My menstrual issues?" She grinned as his face seemed to turn from red to pale and back again.

"Uh, yeah," Freddie said, weakly.

"I'm just goin' with the flow, Freddie," she said, laughing.

Freddie decided a change of subject was in order. "So do you have anything planned for today?"

"No," she said. "Ted's got his goons keeping an eye on me, so I decided to lay low until next week. Give everybody else a chance to play catch up, let 'em think they actually have a hope."

"Okay. I know we got _iCarly _ tonight, but I think we should at least spend a little time on the tutoring. Carly did an okay job..."

"You checked up on Carly, Freddie?"

"Well, yeah, what she does affects how my performance as a tutor is perceived," he said.

"Fine, Freddie, but I don't want to do it tonight. Give me a break."

Okay, we don't have to do it tonight. We can do it during study hall."

"Freddie, you're not supposed to talk in study hall," she said.

"And yet you do it all the time. So we don't go to study hall. We'll skip."

Sam stared at him. "Who are you, and what have you done to Freddie?"

"Sam,, the teacher never takes roll."

"Fine. Meet me in the normal place."

_2_

The normal place was an empty classroom on the second floor. Over the previous two years, two teachers who had taught in that classroom had gone...a little batty. Sam happened to be in their classes at the time, although she felt it was unfair to contribute all the blame to her. She was sure they had been a little batty already before they met her.

The classroom had gotten a bit of a reputation, and all the teachers refused to teach in it. For the time being, it was empty of students and full of supplies.

After they had been going over her English assignment for a while, they decided to take a break. Freddie didn't bother to tutor her in Algebra. He realized she was just as good at math as he was. All he did was ensure she had done her homework.

"So was...your issue...the only reason you and Carly were huddled together yesterday?"

"What?" she asked. Surely Carly wouldn't have broken her promise. "Why? Did Carly say something?"

"No," he said. "What would she have to say?"

"Nothing, I just don't like my health issues being discussed."

"Don't lie to me, Sam. You delighted in talking to me about it earlier, just because you liked seeing me squirm," he said, not looking at her.

"Are you calling me a liar, nub?"

"Well, that's sort of implied by 'don't lie to me, Sam,'" he said, mockingly.

She stood up and got in his face. Well, several inches below his face. "Don't call me a liar."

He looked down at her. _Why do we keep ending up in kissing distance?_ he thought. He decided to push. "Liar."

Sam was about to retort when people came into the room. Not came into the room. Stormed. Freddie and Sam weren't even able to react before it was too late. Freddie, who had been facing the door, had time to wonder why the people were wearing ski masks, and then it was over. The people-Freddie thought there had been five of them, and by their dress and body shape, were all guys-were out of the room before either of them fully realized what had happened.

Sam and Freddie's bodies were touching, and their faces were mere inches from each other. And they were stuck together by many layers of duct tape.

_3_

"Hey, Carly, my sweet," Gibby said.

"Gibby," Carly said. She had decided to just accept Gibby's random compliments and endearments. She wasn't dating anybody at the moment, and at least Gibby was making her feel good about herself. "You haven't seen Sam or Freddie, have you?"

"Nope, not since Sam in English."

"I can't believe Sam is missing lunch," Carly said. For a moment, she thought it might be possible that Sam had told Freddie how she felt. She couldn't see how that would happen, though. Unless she was beating them up, Sam was very shy around boys she liked. And Sam had been so insistent that Freddie not know anything about her feelings.

"Gibby, you and Freddie are friends, right? I mean, you guys talk guy stuff, right?"

"I guess, sometimes, my little turtle dove," Gibby said.

"Does he ever talk to you about girls?" she asked.

Gibby paused in the process of biting into his sandwich. "Uh, why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I was just wondering."

"He doesn't like you anymore," Gibby said, quickly.

"He said that to you?"

"No, guys just have this special communication, like mind-reading," he said. "Good one, Gibby."

"Gibby, you realize you said that out loud, right?"

"Said what?"

"Never mind. So, not counting me, does Freddie ever mention any girls?"

"Not specifically. I mean, a girl did ask him out last week, but he said he couldn't, because he was too busy. She was pretty." He looked guilty. "Not as pretty as you, of course."

"Who was she?"

"Uh, Laura something. I think she's a cheerleader."

The only cheerleader named Laura that Carly knew was Laura Thomas. Not only was she a cheerleader, she was a member of the National Honor Society. And a Galaxy Wars fan (Carly had found this out when she had gone to a slumber party Laura had been at, and a game of truth-or-dare had revealed that secret). Freddie had passed up a date with what would appear to be his dream girl, because he was too busy. And yet he was now spending almost all his time with Sam. _Maybe Sam isn't the only one who's been hiding some feelings_, she thought. She wondered what she could do to find out. She had to be careful, because if she was wrong about Freddie, then Sam would be heartbroken. And mad at Carly.

Gibby, mistaking Carly's silence, said, "you really are the prettiest girl in the school."

Carly blushed.

_4_

"This is all your fault."

"I got that the first five times you said that, Sam."

They were not looking at each other. Sam's field of vision when she looked at Freddie was from his chest to his head. His cologne suited him, she thought, and blushed for thinking that.

Freddie looked at the ceiling, and thought, _she smells like strawberries_. He decided he needed to think of something else-baseball, rats, Gibby rubbing lotion on Spencer...okay, that did it.

They looked at each other at the same time.

"Are you looking down my shirt, Benson?"

"No!" And then he felt his eyes move involuntarily. He shut them. "Don't say that!"

"You're a pervert."

"I am not. You brought it up."

"Whatever, pervert," she said. She decided it was better to harass him than think too much about how they were touching. She could feel his hands near her hips. Wait.

"Freddie, do you think anybody else comes here?"

She felt him shake his head, then stop quickly. "Uh, no, I think we're the only ones who ever use it."

"So we have to get out ourselves. Okay, I have a Swiss Army knife on my key chain. You need to reach it."

"Sam, you're not supposed to have them at school."

"Well, it's a good thing I do, isn't it? Now, get it." _He is so frustrating._

"Can't you reach it?"

"No, your hands are blocking mine. You're closer." Freddie sighed, and for several minutes they shivered and shrugged together.

"That's not my pocket, Freddie."

"Oh." He angled his hand away quickly. "Okay, I think I got it."

He pulled her key chain out, and she moved her hand toward him. Together they were able to pull the blade open.

"Careful," Freddie said. Sam started cutting through the tape. It took them about twenty minutes before they had cut through enough that they were able to start using their hands. Luckily, most of the tape was on their clothes, although Freddie did lose some arm hair.

"Who did this?" Freddie asked.

"Oh, I know who did it."

_5_

"Steve Phillips!"

The boy in question physically recoiled, but he planted a smile on his face. He was standing in a group of five boys.

"Hey, Sam, what's up? You look like you've been a little tied up with something."

Sam pulled her arm back, and Freddie grabbed it. He bent down to her ear. "You can't, Sam, you'll get expelled."

Steve smirked. "So Ridgeway's number one prankster got pranked. I think that has to be worth quite a few points."

Sam was about to ignore the whole expulsion issue when Freddie said, "what's he talking about, Sam?"

She turned to look at Freddie. He raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't know," she said, hesitantly. She wasn't sure where Freddie was going with this, but she was going to follow his lead. For the moment.

"What are you trying to say, Benson?" Steve said, and Sam was glad to see his smirk had withered away.

"Well, it seems like you're saying somebody pranked Sam, but she's been with me. We've been studying English."

No, no...we duct-taped you guys."

"Duct tape?" Sam asked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Steve reached out and touched Freddie's arm. He wasn't quite brave enough to do the same to Sam. "His arm's sticky."

Freddie nodded. "Yeah, Sam got bored and attacked me with super glue."

"I have witnesses," Steve said.

"Well, as long as they're not your friends, I guess I can listen to them," Sam said. "They're not your friends, are they?"

Steve slumped, and his friends mumbled. "Wait, you don't have any proof that you were the one who shocked everybody in those classrooms."

"Funny you would say that, Steve," she said, and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She brought the video up and showed it to him.

Sam handed her phone to Freddie and grabbed Steve's shirt. Freddie saw Steve make a gesture to another boy, who took off. Freddie stepped back a few steps, out of the view of Steve's friends.

"Now, if somebody were to have pulled a prank on me, I think that person might want to think about whether or not they want to end up singing soprano. Do you like to sing, Steve?" Sam asked.

"Not particularly, no," Steve said, trying to keep his voice steady and failing.

"That's good," Sam said.

"Sam," Freddie said, and pointed down the hallway. Steve's friend was leading Principal Franklin to them. Sam released Steve.

"What's going on here?" Principal Franklin asked.

"Just having a friendly conversation."

"She's the one who shocked everybody yesterday," Steve said. "She has a video on her phone."

Sam gasped. She couldn't believe Steve would rat out another member of the Detention Posse. But it didn't matter; she was screwed. She looked at Freddie.

He handed her phone to her. "Show him, Sam."

Principal Franklin reached down and pulled the phone from her hand. He tried to access it, but her password screen came up.

"Sam," Principal Franklin said, with real regret in his voice. She knew there was nothing to be done. As soon as he saw the video, she was gone. She put her password in, and Principal Franklin went to the media section. He stared for a moment, then began laughing.

"What's so funny?" Steve said, fuming.

"That is one crazy cat," Principal Franklin said, showing the phone to Steve. On the phone was a video of Sam's cat, Frothy, attacking a package of ham.

"That's not the right video," Steve said.

"It's the only video on there," Principal Franklin said. "Please don't accuse people of things without proof, Mr. Phillips." He turned to Sam and Freddie. "Mr. Benson, it appears your right arm is slightly bald. Is there a reason for that?"

"I was thinking of joining the cycling team, but then changed my mind partway through shaving," Freddie said. Sam suppressed a laugh. Principal Franklin stared at him and sighed.

"I had so hoped you would be the one influencing her, not the other way around," he said. He shook his head and walked away. Steve and his friends skulked off.

Sam turned to Freddie. "What did you do?"

"I just sent your video to my mail account and then removed it from your phone," he said, shrugging.

"Wait a minute. How did you get into my phone?"

"LIke I wouldn't know your password, Sam," he said, smiling. She looked at him for a moment, and then smiled back.

"Thanks, Freddie." She thumped him on the head, not hard.

"What was that for?"

"For missing my pocket. Pervert!"

**A/N: **

**Thanks for reviews from: PurpleJerkWarrior, Moviepal, PurpleJerk, Geekquality, cynthiarox99, WahooPunchPurple, ShooshYeah35, Julefor, Icarlya, SeddieFTW, Flutter360, and Penny Tee13.**

**PurpleJerkWarrior: I actually based Sam's behavior on the show. It seems like, especially in season 4, she doesn't take delight in doing the things that she does, at least not as much as she used to. Actually, I think most of the time when she shows that she is having fun during a prank is when she's doing it to Freddie. **

**PurpleJerk: The main reason I don't write Brad is I get so frustrated with so many stories with Brad in them, since a lot of writers almost make him a Mary Sue character, and I don't want to end up doing that myself (or worse, go the complete opposite way and make him a complete jerk).**

**Julefor: Well, we see in this chapter that Carly is already debating with herself about interfering. And, no, we're not going to see Freddie's poem about a tree, as that was based on my own disastrous 8th grade poem about a tree. Shudder. **

**Icarlya: Yeah, I'm pretty sure that there are plenty of high schools where spontaneous wrestling matches can still break out. I don't know if guys practice flirting-at least I don't, but then I'm married, and my wife hates when I practice flirting with other women. That was just something Spencer said for reasons of his own. When I say that some things are out of my control, I mean that I generally don't write from an outline. I have a basic idea of what I want to write, and I start to write it-and sometimes I write things that end up being more important than what I originally intended. When I wrote Spencer's "flirting" comment, it was really just a throw-away line for me, just something to indicate that Spencer knew more than he was saying and that he didn't want Carly to know that. It just felt natural to have Gibby reply to that, and then it again felt natural to have Gibby practice flirting the next day. I never intended to move him and Carly into possible couplehood (I actually had no plans at first to even include Gibby), but once it happened, I just went with it. Often when I write I let myself be guided by outside forces. That's why some of my other stories are so influenced by music-because I was playing certain songs while I either wrote the story or thought about the story.**


	11. Chapter 11: Sam Again

Chapter 11: Sam Again

**Disclaimer: I own a large yard; will someone come mow it for me? I'll give you **_**iCarly **_**for it (disclaimer: author does not actually own **_**iCarly**_**, the television show. Instead, he owns a stuffed squirrel he calls "iCarly", but he won't actually give it to you, as he will hide it while you are mowing his lawn and insist he **_**already**_** gave it to you). (disclaimer: author should perhaps not mow two acres in 100 degree weather).**

_Day 5 - night_

_1_

It wasn't their best _iCarly_ episode. Freddie supposed that was probably his fault. According to Sam, it was. It seemed the friendship they had both ceded that they shared over the last few days had been replaced by the old dynamic, filled with insults and eye rolls.

"We're up here, Freddumb," she said for the third time, as the camera strayed while he once again looked at the girl off to the side. Who happened to look a lot like Sam. And by a lot, he mused, he meant exactly. Except for the make-up and the hair style and the clothes...

"Dork!"

and the name calling, it was Sam. Or Melanie. Who until tonight Freddie had thought did not exist. Sure, he had seen her on Sam's Splashface page, but Freddie assumed that was just Sam continuing the joke long after it was funny.

On second thought, he decided, the bad show wasn't his fault. He wouldn't have been so confused if Sam hadn't told him that Melanie really didn't exist and that it was just Sam pretending to be Melanie. And it was Sam who had sprung Melanie on him moments before the show was supposed to start.

"Melanie's gonna be here this weekend. Let's start the show." And she just stood there, waiting for Freddie to start after that. After he fumbled for the camera and barely did the countdown coherently, she looked at him like he was dirt. Between taking looks at the other Sam...Melanie...he tried to think what he had done wrong. He had apologized for his hand missing her pocket, and she had accepted it, after torturing him about his perversion for a good ten minutes. Sure, she could be mad about her sister being here, but why would that make her mad at Freddie? She still treated Carly the same.

"Could you guys stand opposite each other and pretend there's a mirror between you?" Gibby asked, his eyes wide.

"Shut up, spud," Sam said.

"Sam!"

"It's not my fault he's a spud, Carly."

Freddie decided there wasn't much he could do about Sam, if she wouldn't talk to him, so he might as well set things right with somebody else.

"Hi, Melanie. I'm Freddie. I don't believe we've been properly introduced when I didn't think you were Sam." He held out his hand, and she shook it, smiling sweetly. "And I want to apologize for my behavior that night. I really, really thought you were Sam."

Carly heard Sam growl and saw her tense. She grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Sam, let's go get that ham downstairs." And she practically pushed Sam out the door. Gibby followed them.

"You don't have to apologize, Freddie. I know how Sam can be. I'm just glad you're not running away from me anymore." Freddie blushed.

"So you're going to be here all weekend? Sam seems happy about that," Freddie said, grinning.

Melanie giggled.

_2_

"Sam, what is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," she said, as she kept looking at the stairs.

"Gibby!" Carly said.

"Yes, my sweet," he said.

"I want a smoothie. Could you get me one?" She started to take money out of her purse, but he waved her off and was already out the door. "Sam, you look like you want to beat Freddie up."

"Well, he is a nub," Sam said.

"Yes, a nub you admitted you loved a few days ago," Carly said. Sam frowned at her. She sighed.

"It's been enough I have to compete with you, Carly. I can't compete with somebody who looks like me and acts like you. Even if he liked me, why wouldn't he want to be with somebody...nicer?"

"Oh, Sam," Carly said and hugged her best friend. They heard Freddie and Melanie coming down the stairs and broke apart. Sam dived for the fridge and began to shove meat in her mouth, which was not uncommon for her.

"Sam, we're having dinner with Mom," Melanie said.

"Snack," Sam said, around her food. Melanie looked disgusted.

Freddie decided he might as well walk into the lion's den. "Sam, I know you obviously want to spend time with your sister." Melanie smiled at this, while Sam sneered. "We do have a test to prepare for next week, so do you want to get together this weekend to go over it?"

"No can do, dork. Mom's really on this 'spending time with her daughters' thing."

"I don't mind if Freddie comes over," Melanie said.

"No." Sam grabbed Melanie by the arm and dragged her out the door. Melanie gave Freddie a small wave and a smile.

"Huh," he said.

_3_

Carly watched as Freddie went upstairs to shut the equipment down. She understood Sam was upset about Melanie, but she was coming perilously close to pushing Freddie into Melanie's arms. Carly needed to do some damage control. She thought she could do it without breaking Sam's promise. Maybe.

"Here's your smoothie, Carly," Gibby said, coming into the room.

"Thanks, Gibby. Uh...I really hate to do this, but could you leave? I'm really sorry, but I have to talk to Freddie about something." She winced at the way his face fell, but she was having a hard enough time with her best friends' relationship. She would have to make it up to him later.

"Oh...sure. I guess I'll see you later." He walked out the door, looking like Charlie Brown in a Peanuts special.

Freddie came downstairs.

"Freddie, can we talk?"

_4_

"Sam, what is your problem?"

"What are you talking about, Mel?"

"Why were you so mean to Freddie?"

"Why do you care if I'm mean to the nub? Afraid I'll scare him away from another date with you?" Melanie sighed.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Sam shouted. They were getting ready for dinner.

"Sam...Mom says she thinks you like Freddie."

"What?" _Mom thinks that? Mom paid attention to me?_ "That's ridiculous. I never liked the nub."

"He seems to think differently."

"Oh, so you're talk buddies now?"

"No, Sam, he was upset because of the way you were treating him. He thought you might have been mad at him for something that happened at school. Something about duct tape." She smiled, as Sam blushed.

"You do like him, don't you, Sam?"

"No, he's more your type, Melanie," Sam said.

"Sam, you know I wouldn't do anything if you liked him."

"Whatever. Let's go."

_5_

"Freddie, can we talk?" Carly asked, when he had come downstairs.

"I guess so. Where's Gibby?"

"He went home." She sat down and gestured for him to do the same. _Something's wrong_, he thought. Maybe his mom would get worried about him and come over. That would be good.

"Do you like Melanie, Freddie?"

"Uh, yeah, she seems pretty nice," he said. Was she trying to set him up with Melanie?

"No, I mean, do you _like_ her?" She made a gesture with her eyebrows he found somewhat disturbing.

"I never really thought about it, Carly. Besides she doesn't even live here. There's no reason to even consider it." His phone buzzed, indicating a text message. He sighed with relief, thinking it was his mom wanting him to come home. But, instead, it was a message from Gibby. He frowned at it and typed a quick reply.

"Do you think Melanie is pretty, Freddie?"

"Why are you asking me this, Carly?"

"Can't I have a conversation with my friend?"

"Sure, but I think we can find out more interesting things to talk about than this."

"So you're saying you don't think Melanie is pretty?"

"Carly, I didn't say that! Of course, she's pretty." _Oh, no_. Carly smirked.

"So, if you think Melanie is pretty, you probably think Sam is pretty, too?" Freddie's phone buzzed. He read the message, rolled his eyes, and replied again.

"Sure, I guess Sam would be pretty, too," he said.

"Do you like Sam, Freddie?"

"She's one of my best friends, Carly. Just like you."

"You know that's not what I meant." There was another text message. Freddie replied.

"Freddie Benson, you need to come home right now," Mrs. Benson said, opening the door to the Shay apartment.

"Oh, thank goodness," Freddie said. He jumped up and ran out the door.

_So close_, Carly thought. Then she noticed that Freddie had left his phone behind. _No, that would be wrong_, she thought. And yet she found herself picking up his phone. She saw the text conversation he had been having.

**Gibby**: I thought you didn't like Carly anymore.

**Freddie: **I don't. What are you talking about?

**Gibby: ** Why are you spending so much time with her?

**Freddie**: Because she's giving me the third degree about something.

**Gibby: ** Oh, that's great.

**Freddie**: Thanks, Gibby. Wait, you don't like Carly, do you?

As she read the messages, a new text from Gibby came up. _don't say anything, Freddie._

"Oh, boy."

_6_

His escape was flawless, he thought, until he realized he had left his phone at Carly's. _Perhaps I can just leave it there_, he thought. _But I have some stuff on there I don't really need Carly to see. Besides, what if Sam calls or texts? What if Sam calls or texts. Man, what a wuss I am._

He sighed. He would have to get the phone. He went over, knocked on the door, and went in. Carly was sitting on the couch, looking a little dazed. His phone was on the edge of the coffee table. He couldn't remember it being there, but maybe he had set it down while Carly was grilling him. He looked at her. Maybe he could grab it and get out before she realized he was there. He picked up the phone. And Carly grabbed his wrist.

"Did you write that poem, Freddie?"

"Poem? Carly, I told you I'm not a poet."

"That's not what I asked, Fredward. Did you write that poem?"

"I can write you a computer program. I don't think I can make it rhyme, though."

"You're lying. I can't believe you."

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are. You're lying by responding without actually answering the question. Tell me, Freddie, with a yes or a no, did you write the poem?"

_Lie to her_, he thought. But he couldn't. He had developed the non-answer answer because he had found lying to both Sam and Carly so hard. When he started doing that, he didn't feel guilty, because he was able to reason with himself that it wasn't technically lying. "Yes," he whispered.

"Did you write it about Sam?" He closed his eyes and nodded at her. "Freddie, you have to tell Sam."

"No, no way, not going to happen. If I tell Sam, our friendship is ruined, and I'm not going to let that happen."

"But she..." Carly stopped. She had made a promise. She knew if she told Freddie, then maybe the two of them could get together, could be happy. But would Sam forgive her? "How do you know she doesn't feel the same way, Freddie?"

"Do you think she feels the same way, Carly?"

Carly paused. She wasn't sure what to say. Freddie took it as a no. "Right, so we just don't say anything about it. Got it?"

"What about the poem, Freddie? If Sam doesn't give Principal Franklin the author, she's gonna get expelled." Freddie nodded.

"I know. I'm going to tell him next week I wrote it, but that I don't want anybody to know about it. He'll have to respect my privacy. Carly, you have to promise me you won't say anything to Sam." Carly sighed. All these promises. She nodded.

"Thanks, Carly." He left.

_7_

Carly took a long shower. Her friends liked each other, and somehow she had promised the both of them she wouldn't tell the other one. This was ridiculous.

When she finished she came downstairs and saw Spencer working on his robot sculpture.

"Spencer, I thought you weren't going to do that!"

"Don't worry, Carly, it's not going to spout fire. I'm gonna have it spray paint. I'm going to call it Metal Rainbow. It should be pretty cool."

"Yeah, that's awesome," she said, sitting on the couch.

"What's the matter, little sister?" He began pushing a hose through the robot.

"Nothing. I just found out some people like each other, but they won't say anything to each other about it."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Sam and Freddie will figure it out." Carly sat up.

"I didn't say it was Sam and Freddie. Why did you say it was Sam and Freddie?"

"Because...they're two people. Yeah, they are." He looked panicked. Carly came over to him. She punched him on the shoulder.

"You knew. You knew, and you didn't tell me." She punched him again.

"Ow. Okay, I knew. Any fool could see...ow. Stop that!"

"Why didn't you say anything to me, Spencer?"

"I don't know. Maybe I thought you would overreact. Clearly I was wrong."

Carly hit him one more time and sat back down. "What am I going to do?"

Spencer sat down next to her. "You have to let them figure it out, Carly. They've been doing it little by little. They'll get there. Just be their friend, and don't let them hurt each other. I mean, don't let Sam hurt Freddie."

"Thanks, Spencer." She hugged him. "But you can't hide anything from me anymore." She looked up. "Spencer, your robot's on fire."

"Oh, man."

**A/N: Well, for those of you who have complained that things seemed to be moving too quickly, remember what I said about ebb-and-tide earlier? I actually feel sorry for Carly.**

**Thank you for reviews from: Moviepal, kiyokoseddie, LadyArtemis101, SeddierFTW, Mm Mystery, PurpleJerk, Penny Tee13, Flutter360, Geekquality, WillowEchoRiver, and kittyhawk09.**

**SeddierFTW: I will leave it to each person's own imagination to decide exactly where Freddie missed her pocket. And sending a video and deleting it and the e-mail actually wouldn't take that long.**

**Mm Mystery: Sorry I put your name like that, but the last time I kept it with the period your name didn't show up. Consider the dots connected.**


	12. Chapter 12: Three Tales

Chapter 12: Three Tales

**Disclaimer: No, I am not the puppet master. Dan Schneider is the puppet master. Now, dance on his strings, you fools!**

_Day 5_

_1_

It was Saturday morning. Usually on Saturdays Gibby would watch cartoons with his little brother. They didn't really like any of the ones that were on TV, so Gibby would put in a DVD of Scooby-Doo or the Flintstones or one of many others. He knew he probably shouldn't be watching cartoons at his age-that was just another thing that other people would think strange about him. But he liked them, and he liked spending that time with his brother. He really wasn't watching them this morning, though. He was still thinking about last night. Freddie hadn't responded to his last text message. Maybe Freddie really didn't like Carly anymore, but would Carly even look at him? She was beautiful and popular and nice and sweet, and he...well, he was Gibby.

The doorbell rang, and Gibby got up to answer it, since he had already lost track of what was happening on the cartoon. All he knew was that the meddling kids were going to solve the mystery.

"Carly." She looked him up and down, and he realized he was wearing his Scooby-Doo pajamas. She didn't seem surprised. Of course, he thought, she wouldn't. He was Gibby. He was weird. His mom told him to embrace his uniqueness, and he did. Sometimes it'd be nice to not be quite so unique, he thought.

"Hey, Gibby, I"m sorry for bothering you." He waved that off, like she would ever be a bother. "I just wanted to say a few things. I apologize for last night. It was rude of me to throw you out like that, and I should have at the very least explained."

"You don't have to explain anything, Carly."

"I do. And...I wanted to ask you for help. See, I made a promise to Sam and Freddie. Or I made individual promises to Sam and to Freddie, but they're the same promise, you know. And I need to make them see! But I can't, because of my promise. Promises."

She looked at Gibby, sure he wouldn't understand. But he nodded. There were plenty of things other people understood that didn't fully register to Gibby, not because he was dumb, but because his mind just never travelled in a straight line very well. But the circular dialogue Carly had just thrown at him was right in his sweet spot.

"I need your help, Gibby. I don't know exactly what I can do yet, not without breaking promises, but I need your help."

"Anything for you, Carly."

She blushed. "And I was thinking...this is a little weird. You're a little weird." She shook her hands. "I don't mean that in a bad way. Sometimes I'm a little weird, too. Anyway, I don't know what's really going on, but would you like to take me outonadatenextFriday?"

Gibby took a moment to translate what she had said. "You want to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, Gibby. I don't know if it will work, but I thought we should at least try."

He reflected. "If I told you I don't think I could help you with Sam and Freddie, would you still want to do that? I mean, she has broken my thumbs before."

She nodded. "I'm asking you on a date no matter what, Gibby."

"Okay...what do you need me to do? I'm not leaping on them in the basement. That didn't work out too well last time."

_2_

"Melanie, I'm letting you buy me lunch. Consider that my gift from me to you, and just shut up, okay?"

"Sam, you're the poster girl for taking candy from strangers, so, no, I don't think it was too much of an effort to...Sam, that thing already died once. Can't you show it some mercy and not...be you?" Sam grinned at her through greasy lips and bit off another piece of meat. "So...you love Freddie."

"I do not love that nub! I've already told you that. What is there to love about him?"

"I don't know, Sam. You tell me. You probably have a list." And, wonder of wonders, something Melanie had seen only once in her life: Sam blushed. "You do. You have a list. Oh, wow."

"I can kill you and get rid of the body so nobody would ever find it." She put the piece of meat down. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Wow, you really must be in love," Melanie said.

"Melanie, don't," Sam said, and Melanie stopped laughing. Something that was stranger than a Sam who stopped eating before the food was gone or who kept a list of a reason she loved a boy was a Sam who looked like she might start crying.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I was only teasing you."

"It's not funny. Even if I liked Freddie, he would never like me back. He's just a friend. A really, really good friend. But just a friend. That's all I'll be to him." Melanie took advantage of something she could do as a sister and moved over to Sam's booth and gave her a hug. Besides, if Sam hit her, she would tell Mom.

"Why wouldn't you be more to him, Sam?"

"You see how I treat him. He's into daffodils like you and Carly. And I can't be that. Believe me, I've tried before."

"Sam, you're never going to know unless you try. I know you're scared..."

"I'm not scared of anything," Sam said, her eyes blazing. But Melanie was a Puckett, too, and she didn't back down.

"Sam, if I was trapped in the middle of a gang fight and had no way out, you would be the one person I would want to have with meg. But, in the matter of boys..." She shook her head. Sam looked at her and slowly nodded.

"Okay, fine. I like him. So what? I'm not going to say anything to him, because I'm not going to lose him as a friend."

"Let me take care of it, Sam." Sam stared at her.

"Oh, no. You're being a Carly."

_3_

Freddie was in a quandary. Carly was out. He talked to Spencer in the hallway as he prepared to leave. Apparently, there was a Gourds of the World exhibition downtown, and there was no way Spencer was going to miss that. Even after Spencer explained exactly what gourds were, Freddie didn't understand. But, then again, he was getting used to not understanding things. So, it looked like Freddie had no other options-he was going to have to spend the day with his mother.

"What about Sam?" Spencer asked, with a grin on his face.

"I tried texting her a few times. She's ignoring me. I'm not sure why."

"Well, keep trying. Surely, the brave knight's persistence shall win the fair maiden's hand."

"What? What are you saying? Have you been talking to Carly?"

"Calm down, Fredmeister. I know. I've known for a while. I'm like an observer." He bent down and came close to Freddie, his eyes two inches from Freddie's own. He stood back up. "Okay, sorry, that was a little creepy."

"Oh, no, so Sam knows?" Maybe that was why she wasn't talking to him. She thought of him being in love with her, and the thought made her so sick she couldn't even look at him or hear his voice.

"Don't worry, Freddo. The lady in question is unaware. The three of you are so stuck in your own world you don't see what's in front of you. But I do. 'Cause I'm the Observer."

Freddie nodded. Spencer started to walk away. Then he turned back.

"Hey, Freddie. Nobody ever gets rewarded unless they try. People can surprise you, you know."

He walked away. Freddie sighed and prepared himself for a day with his mother. Maybe they could compromise on an activity that didn't cause him embarrassment or discomfort.

"Forgot my autograph book," Spencer said, jogging past him into his own apartment.

Autograph book?

_4_

Carly told Gibby she didn't really have a plan yet, but she wanted him involved. She wanted to be honest with him, so she told him she had no guarantee it would work, and that, yes, Sam might hurt him. But Gibby was a brave knight, and there was little he would not do for his fair lady.

Carly stayed and watched cartoons with Gibby and his brother. Gibby made crepes, which Carly found surprisingly delicious. Wait until she told Sam that Gibby could make crepes. Then again, she was trying to get Sam and Freddie together, and she didn't need Sam distracted by a boy who could cook. Especially Gibby.

Especially Gibby? "Oh, boy," she said.

"What?"

"Nothing. These are good crepes, Gibby."

"Thanks."

Carly and Gibby talked about school and cartoons and movies and ended up talking for a ridiculous amount of time about straws. They both decided that while they appreciated the wacky straws with all their curves and loops, they preferred a simple bendy straw.

Carly looked at her watch and realized she had been at Gibby's house for five hours. And she had been having a good time.

_5_

"This is stupid, Melanie."

"How is it stupid, Sam? He believed I was you before."

"That's when he thought you didn't exist," Sam said. "If you pretend to be me, he'll see right through it. He'll be suspicious anyway."

"I can be you," Melanie said. She put a sneer on her face. "Meat. Nub. Mama plays to win," she said with a growl. Sam laughed.

"Okay, fine, whatever. But what's the point? What could you do as me that I can't do?"

"I can talk to boys, Sam," Melanie said. "Look. I have more experience than you in this area. I know how to talk to him without giving away that you loooooove him." Sam growled at her. "Whereas you would probably punch him in the arm, say 'you're okay, Benson', and then give him a wedgie."

Sam couldn't disagree. "Fine. But just remember..."

"Yes, yes, I know, body will never be found. Nothing's going to go wrong."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

_6_

Freddie had been able to talk his mother into just doing a puzzle together. Nothing too painful.

After, he was on his bed, thinking about Spencer's words. Maybe Spencer was right. He needed to be brave. What could go wrong?

"Well," he said to himself, "Sam could hit me, punch me, laugh at me, give me a wedgie, kick me, insult me...all the normal stuff."

_You're a coward, Freddie Benson_, he thought. Guilty as charged.

He had to do something, though. Was he just going to spend every day seeing her, tutoring her, being that close to her, and not go crazy? No. He was in love with Sam Puckett, so there was obviously already some craziness in him somewhere.

Yes, he told himself for the twentieth time, I definitely have to do something.

And he might have told himself that thirty more times if he hadn't received the text from Sam: _I'm coming over tomorrow, nub_.

**A/N:**

**Thank you for revies from: kiyokoseddie, Julefor, Clamanter, PurpleJerk, Moviepal, shgoi, SeddierFTW, Geekquality, Penny Tee13, Flutter360, and Kressxblack.**

**Julefor: She's trying not to meddle. It's just not her way. And who knows what other hijinks might happen with Spencer?**

**PurpleJerk: I don't think you need to worry about figuring things out. That might happen sooner than we think; of course, who knows what might happen when they do find out? And I wouldn't say that everybody knows that Sam and Freddie liked each other. Spencer knew, but before the past few days nobody else really knew.**

**SeddierFTW: I think that sounds like a challenge. I think I'm going to start doing a chapter an hour from now on. Of course, the sleeping hours are going to be a little boring. I'm kidding. I don't think you have to worry. There will be a whole slew of issues for two chapters a day.**


	13. Chapter 13: Escape

Chapter 12: Escape

**Disclaimer: Dan, yes. Me, no.**

_Note: Thank you to SeddierFTW for pointing out my mistake on the days. Chapter 11 should have been listed as day 6, not day 5. This chapter is day 7._

_Day 7_

_1_

Gibby was at Carly's apartment. Sam wasn't. Freddie wasn't. That was one of the many things that was different today. She had texted Sam a few times, but Sam replied that she was going to spend time with her sister. That was different, too. Sam would usually take any excuse, reasonable or not, to get away from her sister, and now she was blowing off her best friend for Melanie. Not that it in any way made Carly jealous. Not at all.

Maybe a little.

She knocked on Freddie's door to see if he wanted to come over. He told her he was busy. When she asked with what, his explanation seemed to make little sense.

So, if her best friends were going to ignore her, she might as well work on her plan to get them together. Not that her plan had any real depth to it. It was pretty much stuck on the headline "Get Sam and Freddie Together" and a bunch of blank space under it. So she called Gibby. She was sure he could provide assistance.

Yeah.

_2_

"Okay, so do I look like Sam Puckett?"

Sam eyed her sister, dressed in Sam's clothes, with Sam's hairdo. "Sort of. I mean, you look like me, but you're not, like, radiating me. I don't look at you and think Sam."

"How about this?" Melanie slouched a little. The smile disappeared from her face. She rolled her eyes and moved her eyebrows down.

"Do I really look like that?" Melanie pulled Sam over to the mirror, and they stared at the two of them side by side, with similar expressions on their faces. "Wow. I'm kind of scary."

"I've always said that."

"Okay, so are you sure you can handle this, Mel? I don't need you getting us married or anything; I just need to know if the possibility of us is even...possible."

"Sam...I know boys. Don't worry."

"Hey, who's worried?" _Me, that's who_.

_3_

Freddie's mom wanted him to stay in bed.

"You're clammy, Freddie."

_Yeah, it's nothing, Mom. Just the girl I love is going to come here, and I have no idea why. All I know is she was mad at me for some reason, and Spencer says I should be a knight. Why would I be clammy?_

Freddie hadn't slept well at all last night. His mother had said his name three times before he even replied. Sam was going to come over, and he was probably going to do something monumentally stupid.

"It's nothing, Mom. Don't you have to work?"

"No, I switched shifts with one of the other girls so she could go on a trip."

_Great_.

_4_

"I don't think I can do anything, Gibby."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I made both of them promises. And Sam wouldn't forgive me. Freddie might not, either."

"Even if you get them together?"

"I don't know!" She put her hands over her eyes. Why did her friends have to be so frustrating. If you like somebody, you let them know!

She looked at Gibby. _I'm not thinking about me right now! Sam and Freddie._

_5_

Sam sat in her bedroom. This is what she wasn't good at. Waiting. She didn't like being nervous. She didn't like when boys made her feel like this. Especially Freddie Benson. He of all people had no right to make her feel like this. He was doing it on purpose. How, she didn't know, but he was. She just knew it.

Right now, Melanie was being Sam and going to talk to Freddie. Maybe Sam should be Melanie. After all, she had become flustered because of a boy. She had blurted to her best friend that she like the boy. She should just put on a frilly dress and makeup and go to the boarding school. Start anew.

"I hate this!"

Her cat, Frothy, mewled agreement.

_6_

Spencer admired his autograph book in his bedroom. _I can't believe I got an autograph from the Gourd King of France_.

_7_

Melanie knocked on the door. _Have to remember. You're Sam. You're Sam. Bacon_.

Freddie opened the door. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey...nub." For some reason, Sam seemed hesitant. It reminded him of that one day on the fire escape...but he didn't need to think of that.

"Who is that, Freddie?"

"Nobody, mom." He slammed the door shut.

_8_

Gibby looked up at the sound. He walked to the door and looked through the peephole.

He looked back at Carly, who was still on the couch in a fetal position. "Carly?"

"Yeah?"

"Sam's talking to Freddie." And then she pushed him out of the way and was looking through the peephole.

_9_

"So...we need to talk," Melanie said.

Freddie looked at his door. "My mom was supposed to be working today, so I thought we could talk in there, but...I guess, Carly's apartment?"

"No. That's not good." It was hard enough making Freddie believe she was Sam. She wasn't sure she could fool Sam's best friend, also.

"The Groovy Smoothie?"

"No, too many people there." Freddie winced at that. If she was concerned about people, that probably meant she was really mad at him. He wished he knew why.

"Gee, Sam, you're not really leaving us much else except the fire escape." He laughed to show he was kidding. _Why did you say that? Just because you were thinking of the day you kissed?_

"That'll work."

"You...want to talk on the fire escape?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Because that's where...we...uh...sure, fire escape is good." _Fire escape is so not good. And she doesn't even remember our kiss! I can't believe it._

_10_

"They're going down the hall. You have to follow them."

"What?" Gibby asked.

"Here, take this video camera. Try to see what they're talking about." She pushed it into his hands.

"Carly, I don't know."

"Gibby, please. This is Sam and Freddie we're talking about. They're going to screw this up."

He sighed, and took the camera.

_11_

"So what did you want to talk about, Sam?"

"What did you think, Fredword?" He looked at her. _Fredword?_

"I don't know, Sam."

Melanie sighed. Boys were so annoying sometimes.

"Do you like my sister?"

"What? Melanie? Sam, I didn't even know she really existed until two days ago. Thanks to you, of course."

"Whatever. I saw the way you looked at her when we were filming _iCarly_."

"Again, Sam, that's because I didn't know she even existed!" he shouted. _This is not how I wanted this to go_.

"Stop trying to get out of this, Fred...doofus. Do you like Melanie?"

"No, okay, jeez. I don't know why it even matters to you." He looked down the fire escape.

"Maybe I don't want her to be with a nerd like you."

"Whatever, Sam. I don't like her like that, and even if I did, she's leaving, so I don't even know why we're talking about this."

"Well, you kissed her."

"She kissed me. And it was weird, okay."

"Weird?" Melanie was hurt, but Freddie was still looking away. "You saying she's a bad kisser?"

"No. I mean...gah...I don't know what I mean. It just felt not right. Like I was kissing the wrong person. I should have realized...whatever...she was the wrong person, okay?"

"Fine, so you're still stuck on Carly?" Freddie's eyes snapped at her, and Melanie took a step back.

"What is this, Sam? I already told you I don't feel that way about Carly anymore. Why are you bringing it up again?"

"You...already told me?" _Well, thanks for letting me in on that little tidbit, Sam_, she thought. Surely Freddie was going to figure it out; Melanie had already made so many mistakes. Why had she thought she could pull this off? Yet, Freddie didn't look like he realized Sam was actually Melanie; he looked mad.

"I can't believe you. I thought we were at least friends, Sam. You agreed that we were. Then you keep acting different every time I see you. And now you don't even remember things I told you last week. And then you want to come out here." He gestured at the fire escape.

"What is wrong out here?"

"Geez, Sam, don't you have a heart? Fine, great, it didn't mean anything to you, but you could at least have remembered."

"Remembered what, Freddie?" Melanie thought of something he had said on their date, after she kissed him, something about not never doing that again...

"Our kiss, Sam. Our first kiss. Right here." He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation.

"We kissed?" Melanie asked stupidly. Apparently, there was a lot her sister hadn't mentioned to her. Freddie was looking at her. "Freddie."

All the frustration of the past week, with the poem and being duct-taped to her and the tutoring clashed in his head like cymbals. The week? Try the moment he realized that he had fallen for Sam Puckett. _Nobody ever gets rewarded unless they try_. Freddie crossed over to her. And leaned.

Melanie, by reflex, closed her eyes, before she fully realized what was happening. Her eyes shot wide open, and she began to push away from him, but he was already stepping back.

They stared at each other for a good minute.

"Melanie?"

She held a hand up weakly. "Hey, Freddie."

_12_

Maybe she shouldn't have let Melanie do this. She was Sam Puckett. She wasn't afraid of anything, right? Right. Maybe she should tell Melanie to not do this.

She looked at her watch. Melanie was probably already being Sam right now. Too late.

_13_

Carly was no longer curled up in a fetal position, but she held her knees up to her chin, arms wrapped around them. She shouldn't have sent Gibby. If Sam discovered him she would probably break both his thumbs again. Probably his other fingers, too. Why couldn't her friends just let her run their lives for them, since she would do a much better job at it?

_14_

The camera in Gibby's hands was pointing at the window sill. He had let it slip when Freddie had said Melanie's name. He hadn't actually got much on video anyway, because he didn't want to show himself. Luckily, he had caught all the audio. Or maybe not luckily, he thought, remembering how Sam had broken his thumbs before. What would she do if she discovered he had been spying on her sister and Freddie? He didn't think Freddie would try to break his thumbs, but there was no doubt that Freddie would be mad.

_15_

"You're Melanie." It was not a question, just a statement. A blank statement.

"Yeah, Freddie."

"So this is just another big joke on me? Funny. Good one." He looked into the distance.

"No, Freddie, it wasn't like that. I promise."

"Then what was it? Because I cannot for the life of me understand why you would do this." He wasn't crying, but to Melanie it looked like he was barely holding it in.

"I was just trying to help Sam."

"She does pretty good at making my life miserable, Melanie. She doesn't really need to bring in outside help."

"She wasn't trying to make your life miserable," Melanie said, and it was she who began crying. She had been so confident. _I know boys_, she had told Sam. Well, it looked like she was wrong on that count. At least with this boy.

"And what was she trying to do?" he asked.

"I can't tell you, Freddie. I'm sorry." He nodded.

"Of course, why would anybody want to help me out. Say, how far down do you think it is from the fire escape to the ground?" He looked over.

"Freddie!"

"Yeah, you're right. There is a chance I might survive. And then I would just be a vegetable in the hospital, and Sam would come there every day to make fun of me."

"Freddie, this is all my fault. It was my idea. Sam didn't want to do this."

"Didn't want to do what?"

Melanie sighed. "I feel kind of silly asking this. Considering what just happened. But do you like Sam, Freddie?"

He stared at her.

"Because...because she likes you, too, Freddie." His stare continued for a moment. Then he broke into the goofiest and sweetest smile she had ever seen. And then, just as suddenly, it disappeared.

"Sam likes me?" She nodded. "Sam likes me. Sam likes me. And I just kissed her sister!" He looked back over the fire escape, as if reconsidering that option.

_16_

Carly had decided to go out and either rescue Gibby or take the blame for him, since they obviously had caught him. As soon as she reached the door, he came in.

"I have good news and bad news, Carly. Which would you like to hear first?"

"Uh, good news."

"Freddie knows that Sam likes him, and he was happy about that." Carly smiled.

"So what's the bad news?"

"He found that out right after he kissed Sam's sister."

_17_

"So, I'm screwed," Freddie said.

"No, Freddie. You like Sam. Sam likes you. This can work."

"Yeah, except I kissed you. Even if Sam somehow still liked me, do you think she would ever forgive me for that?"

"She doesn't have to know, Freddie."

"Really, you think so? You think you can just go back and be her sister and not eventually tell her what happened? Do you think I am going to be able to spend time with her, tutoring her and doing _iCarly_ and that stupid poem thing, and just pretend I didn't kiss you. People find out about kisses. Trust me, I know."

"Maybe if you told her and just explained."

"Why don't you explain it to her, Melanie?"

"Because she knows where to put bodies without them ever being found!" Melanie came next to him and looked over the fire escape. They looked at each other at the same time, shook their heads, and moved away. She sat on the window sill, while he sat on one of the stairs.

"What am I going to do?" Freddie said.

"I don't know, Freddie. I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about. You didn't kiss me."

"You never would have kissed me if you hadn't thought I was Sam." Freddie couldn't think of anything to say to this.

"I should have realized you weren't Sam. Fredword? That was lame. But I stayed up all night thinking about that whole brave knight thing." He waved off the questioning expression on her face. "And I was just off. And then you mentioned the fire escape like it didn't matter, and for a while I couldn't think of anything else, much less realize that you weren't Sam."

"Freddie?"

"What?"

"What poem thing were you talking about?"

"Oh, Sam is supposed to find the author of some poem found in the school. They want it in their literary magazine or something."

"Is that the piece of paper she keeps reading?"

"What?" Melanie saw Freddie's eyes widen.

"Yeah, I've seen her read it like ten, fifteen times. She doesn't know I saw her." She watched Freddie. "You wrote it, didn't you?"

He sat back, resting on the next step up. He nodded. "I don't know how everybody else seems to be able to figure that out, and yet Sam can't."

"I'm guessing you and she are a little too close to the situation and a little too scared to realize a lot of things." She gave him a sympathetic look.

"What am I going to do?" he repeated.

_18_

"So how'd it go?" Sam tried not to show it, but inside it felt like she was pinging all over the place.

"I'm sorry, Sam. He realized it was me."

"He realized it was you? How?"

"I guess he just noticed some differences between us." _The key is to never directly answer the question. Sam can catch a lie like nobody's business, but if you tell her the truth without actually answering the question asked, you can get it by her. Of course, I've found out recently that doesn't always work with everyone_, Freddie had said.

"Oh." Melanie saw the disappointment on her sister's face. "What should I do, Mel?"

"I don't know, Sam. I just want you to know I love you, okay." She hugged Sam.

"Don't get mushy on me."

"Of course. I have to start packing if I'm going to make that flight." She got up. "I'm really sorry, Sam."

**A/N: **

**Thank you for reviews from: Julefor, Moviepal, LadyArtemis101, SeddierFTW, Flutter360, Geekquality, and Penny Tee13.**

**Julefor: Yes, poor Freddie. Maybe I should just crossbreed stories and have him get into a fight with a football player and have that guy pummel him. It would probably be easier for him to deal with than what he's gonna have to face.**

**Moviepal: Yeah, I decided to do things differently. Usually when somebody decides to do an elaborate plan like this, it usually works perfectly. I decided a different approach. Heh.**

**SeedierFTW: Thanks for pointing out my mistake. I will fix it soon. Yeah, I think Melanie thought she was more gifted than she actually was. She could have probably done a decent job of pulling off being Sam, but there was Freddie throwing curveballs at her, with the kissing and other stuff Sam had forgot to mention.**

**Penny Tee13: I can somewhat agree that Freddie maybe should have been able to tell them apart. But let's give the poor guy a break. First, he's already gone through the whole Sam and Melanie issue before where he was told two different things about the possibility of there actually being a Melanie. Then Sam is mad at him for no reason that he can think of. Then Spencer fills his head with Quixotic visions, which causes him to get little sleep. He's already a little out of sorts, and then the girl he loves (or at least her understudy) doesn't appear to even remember their first kiss, which was something really important to him. I don't blame him at all. I can't say the same thing for how Sam might feel about it. Who knows what lurks in her mind? I guess we'll have to find out.**


	14. Chapter 14: So Far Away

Chapter 14: So Far Away

**Disclaimer: You can't own what you never had. Unless you steal it. Does anybody know how to get to Dan Schneider's house?**

_Day 8 - School_

_1_

The three friends stood in the school hallway, same as they always have, but there seemed to be a chasm between them. None of them remarked on the physical distance among them, despite the fact normally you could hardly squeeze a person in that gap.

"Hey, guys," Carly said. She wanted to talk to Freddie about what happened on the fire escape, but there was no way she could do that without admitting she had been spying on him-or having Gibby spy on him. If Melanie had said nothing to Sam, Carly knew that Freddie wouldn't. In a way, Carly couldn't blame him Sam sometimes had a nasty habit of reacting violently to bad news, and Carly didn't think Sam would take into consideration that Freddie thought he was kissing her, at least not until well after his nose was already broken.

Hey, Carly. Sam." Freddie opened his mouth again, but closed it when he realized he couldn't really think of anything to say. If he still had a crush on Carly and she, hypothetically, had a twin sister, he thought he could actually explain what happened. Maybe they could even find a way to eventually laugh about it. But Sam was no Carly. That was part of the reason Freddie loved her-Sam was no Carly; Sam was no anybody he had ever met in his life-but right now it was more frustrating than anything else. _Jerk_, he thought to himself. He was the one who kissed her sister, and he was trying to blame it on her. "I have to go do something."

And before either of them could say anything, he was gone.

"Carly, I did something stupid," Sam said.

"Uh...what?"

"I let Melanie talk me into having her act like she was me, since she is better with boys. You know, so she could see if there was a chance Freddie liked me back. But the nub realized she was not me, so he probably thinks I was just pulling a prank on him. I really screwed up."

"Oh." _Well, that was helpful_, Carly thought. Yeah, Freddie had realized Melanie wasn't Sam...as soon as he had kissed her. If only he had realized before. Carly had watched the video at least a dozen times. Well, more listened to it than watched, because Gibby hadn't been able to get too close, in fear of being caught. She felt so bad for Freddie, so bad for both of her friends, but she was frustrated with both of them.

"What should I do, Carly?"

And, for once in her life, Carly didn't have an opinion.

_2_

"Mr. Benson, I'm surprised to see you here." Principal Franklin looked down at the boy sitting outside his office.

"Could I talk to you, Principal Franklin?"

Principal Franklin stared at him for a moment and then gestured for Freddie to come into his office. Freddie sat down in the chair that had for the last four years or so essentially become the property of Sam Puckett.

"I need to say a couple of things. The first is that I don't think I should tutor Sam anymore."

"Why is that, Mr. Benson?"

"I just don't think Sam and I work well together. There's just too much, uh, history, I guess, for her to really be able to look at me seriously as a tutor. I can suggest some other people who would be great for her."

Principal Franklin turned to the computer, where he had Sam Puckett's records pulled up. He always had them easily available, just in case.

"From what I've see, Sam has improved her grades in the last week, even in courses you aren't tutoring her in. I don't think you need to worry about your 'history' interfering with her progress."

Freddie nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. He hoped that the next thing he had to say would get him released from duty, or else he would have to go join the French Foreign Legion or something.

"There's this other thing, too. You know, where you're making Sam find the author of that poem. She's never going to."

"That would be unfortunate, Mr. Benson. That would indicate an examination of Miss Puckett's possible expulsion would need to be explored."

"No!" Freddie shot forward. Principal Franklin arched an eyebrow at him. "I mean, no, it doesn't. She'll never find out who wrote it, but I did." He stopped. Principal Franklin said nothing. Freddie steeled himself. "I wrote it."

Mr. Benson, I know you and Sam are close, and it doesn't surprise me that you would be willing to say you did something, even if you didn't."

"I wrote the poem. I wrote it about Sam. I'm the author." Principal Franklin looked at him.

"I know."

"What?"

"I saw you drop the piece of paper when you got caught between the wrestlers, and I saw it go under the classroom door. I picked it up after I talked to them about confining their matches to the gym. I was planning on having it returned to you, until I saw what it was and realized who it was about."

"But...why...what? Why would you do that, Ted?"

"Principal Franklin."

"You're messing with my life. I think I can call you Ted right now." Ted looked at him. He nodded acquiescence. Use of proper titles was not a priority right now. "Why would you do that?"

"You're not my favorite student, Freddie." He shook a hand at Freddie's look of shock. "Don't take that badly. You're not my favorite student, because you're a good student. I don't see you that much. I wish I could give equal attention to every student here, but I can't. Sam Puckett, however...well, sometimes I see her more than my own children. And she's not your normal troublemaker. If she was, I would have removed her years ago. There's a greatness to our young Miss Puckett that she doesn't realize herself." Freddie nodded without realizing. "I have tried different ways to get through to her before, but nothing seemed to work. She respects me, something no other teacher or administrator her has gotten, but not enough to elicit change. But then...I talked to your friend Carly's brother."

"What?"

"I tried to talk to her mother, but every time she said she would come in, she would end up canceling. So I talked to the only other adult I knew who had an influence on her. He told me that the most likely way to curb some of her most disruptive behavior was through you."

"Me?"

"I admit that was my first impression. After all, for a while a large amount of the time Sam Puckett spent in this office was because something she had done to you. But then, thinking about it, I realized none of those had been reported by you, only witnessed by others. So I kept an eye on you two, and it turns out Mr. Shay was correct in his assessment of who might have influence on her. And fortune smiled on a fool when you happened to drop the poem."

Freddie sat back, stunned. Spencer knew there was something between them. Carly kept wanting to interfere in his life. Melanie pretended to be Sam in order to manipulate him into admitting he liked Sam. And now Ted was in on it, too. _What I wouldn't do to have control of my own life_, he thought. Then, thinking of the previous day's activity, perhaps he wasn't necessarily the best person for that job, either.

"There's just one problem with your thinking, Ted."

"What's that, Freddie?"

"I kissed Sam's sister."

_3_

As if the rest of her life wasn't turning to sewer droppings, Sam had to deal with this now.

"I thought you were out of this, Rodney."

"Yes, but I've decided to re-enter the competition, Sam. It turns out being the one to control the senior prank also leads to many economical possibilities. Not to mention a nice little side-betting on whether the illustrious Sam Puckett can be defeated."

Sam flushed with anger, but she saw no way to get out of it. It wouldn't have been so bad just to have Rodney back in the competition. The problem was the other members of the Detention Posse (except for Steve, who was being ostracized) had thrown all their support behind Rodney, ensuring that any pranks they performed were credited to him. Sam's lead had already been cut in half. There was no way she would be able to stay ahead for another week against their combined powers.

Before she ended up snapping and shoving Rodney inside his locker, she left.

She walked down the hall and saw a strange sight. Freddie Benson, Captain Goody Two Shoes, coming out of the principal's office. She scooted behind the corner and peeked out to see what was going on. Principal Franklin was now with Freddie. He clapped Freddie on the shoulder and nodded at him. Freddie didn't look happy. Neither did Principal Franklin.

_What is going on?_

_4_

"I don't know what to do, Gibby." Carly rested her head on the table, her lunch tray, forgotten and untouched, pushed away from her. Gibby patted her clumsily on the back. Sam and Freddie had not joined them at lunch.

"You're putting too much on yourself, Carly. You're not responsible for them."

Carly's head shot up. "But they're my friends! I'm supposed to be making sure they're happy, and ever since I got involved it all seems to be falling apart." Gibby nodded, then caught himself and stopped. Sure, he was a Gibby, but even he realized Carly's plans never really seemed to work out the way she wanted them to. But she still kept trying to help the ones she loved, and that was one of the reasons Gibby loved her. His face turned scarlet, but Carly didn't notice, as her head was back on the table.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. She looked at it. "It's from Freddie."

_5_

Sam looked at the text message that Freddie had sent her and Carly. _Sorry, guys, bunch of school work. See you tonight. Sam, poem thing taken care of. Talk 2 you later._

What did he mean the poem thing was taken care of?

And why was he being nice? She figured he was avoiding her because of the Melanie thing, sure Sam was pranking him again. She hadn't figured a way to explain it to him without admitting how she felt. She had screwed up.

Which is why she was doing the only thing she could think of. Which was to reclaim victory in the one domain she knew she was mistress of: pranking. She had pulled five already. They were, admittedly, not up to the normal Puckett standard, but they were points nonetheless.

She worked on some wires in the faculty lounge. She only had a limited time when she knew there wouldn't be any teachers there. More points, that's what she needed. And tonight, she would talk to Freddie. She would be honest, although the thought hurt her. She would tell him why she sent Melanie. Maybe, if she was brave, she would tell him she loved him. She even might be able to say it without punching him afterward and running away.

_This can work, right?_

**A/N: Sorry about not posting a chapter yesterday. After finishing my other story and writing a chapter for each story every day for over a week, I was just a little wiped. I apologize for screwing up the days/chapter numbers in the last two chapters.**

**Hmm...things are probably going to get interesting in the next chapter.**

**Thanks for reviews from: Julefor, Moviepal, PurpleJerk, SeddierFTW, Flutter360, Geekquality, Penny Tee13, Icarlya, and kiyokoseddie.**

**Julefor: Yes, maybe they should have told Sam right away, but there are two issues with that: one, both of them were not in much of a right mind after the kiss; and two, it's Sam! And drama? You want drama? Well, just wait until next chapter! And as for Mitch coming back in "Nothing to Fear", I was just meaning when he came back into the story after his first appearance.**

**Moviepal: If there's anything I've learned from the series is that poor Freddie seldom has the upper hand. We'll see.**

**PurpleJerk: Yes, that's why I had him mention something about the weirdness of kissing Melanie, and how he should have realized...something that I didn't let him finish say. And, yes, I understand people saying that Freddie and/or Melanie should just be able to say what happened. But Sam is scary! And not always rational. Plus, truthfully, I have seen stranger going-ons in real life. As for the Carly/Gibby pairing-I find it a little weird myself, but I can't say that you couldn't easily arrange it on the show itself, as they seem to make it a point to have Carly be particularly sweet to Gibby.**

**kiyokoseddie: If you are suggesting that Sam seems out of character because of being concerned about a boy, I don't agree, since we've seen how, when boys are involved, she does act a little different. If it's something else, I apologize. As for your comment on "Nothing to Fear", the guy said "it's cool" just because he was letting Freddie know that he could do like he wanted, since nobody was watching (since standing at a 45 degree angle in Tom's Twister would technically not be allowed, although I did it at Six Flags outside St. Louis when I had season passes). **


	15. Chapter 15: The Triangle

Chapter 15: The Triangle

**Disclaimer: Let it be known across the land: Dan owns **_**iCarly**_**, yo.**

_Day 8 - Night_

_1_

Spencer had heard the phrase, "you could cut the tension with a knife." He had never actually experienced it himself, although as a sculptor he actually enjoyed the thought. He changed his mind once he came into the apartment. The first thing he noticed was the distance. The three teenagers formed a triangle, but the distance among them was so vast that Spencer immediately noted it. The three of them were often so close that they practically sat on each other on the couch.

Carly was standing near the computer. Freddie was near the stairs. And Sam was standing closest to Spencer, next to the couch and close to the door.

"What's going on, guys?" he asked. They turned away from their three-way death stare and looked at him. That seemed to break whatever spell had been cast over them.

"Nothing. I'm out of here," Sam said and moved past Spencer and pulled the door wide open and left. She didn't close the door. When she went, Freddie started to take a step. He stopped, and deliberately looked away, up the stairs so that he didn't need to look at Carly. Spencer looked at her.

Carly took a step toward Freddie. "Freddie?" His eyes flashed to her quickly.

"Yeah, I think I should go, too. See you later, Spencer." And he left, closing the door behind him.

"Carly, what happened?" He stepped toward her, stopping when she held her hand up. Her face, which had been clear when the others were there begin to sparkle with tears.

"I'm going upstairs." She left.

"What happened here?" Spencer asked the empty room.

_2_

Earlier:

When Freddie came home, he stayed there for a while. That wasn't that common. If he had taken the time to delve into it, he would have realized he spent more time at Carly's than he did at his own apartment. But today, he just didn't feel like it. For the longest time in a while, he didn't even want to see Sam. But he had to go over there eventually, right?

Sam walked down the hall the same time he opened his door. They looked at each other, but didn't say anything. Freddie held the door open for her. Carly was sitting on the couch and looked at them almost guiltily when they came in.

"Hey, guys," she said. Sam grunted, and Freddie nodded at Carly. "So you guys gonna do the tutor thing?"

"I guess," Sam said. "I was thinking I would look more into this poem thing."

Freddie spoke up for the first time. "You don't have to. I talked to Te...Principal Franklin. You don't have to do that anymore-just the tutoring and staying out of trouble."

"I thought I told you not to talk to him, nub."

"You're welcome, Sam. Your gratitude makes it all worthwhile."

"What did you tell him, anyway?"

He looked at her. "I told him I wrote it." Both Sam and Carly looked at him.

"And what did you say when he asked who it was about?" Sam asked. Her neck was slightly flushed. Carly felt like every muscle in her body was tensed.

"I said it was about you, Sam." He looked at her. She said nothing back.

"Well, that's good, guys. Sam won't get expelled. I guess the tutoring should begin," Carly said, trying to break the intense looks between the two. She felt uncomfortable being the only one sitting and got up and moved nearer to the kitchen. "Anybody want any lemonade?"

"Why would he believe you wrote a poem about me, Freddie?"

"It seems he believes there is something going on between us." He turned toward her, so that they were facing each other. Sam looked into his eyes, both afraid and hopeful. "It seems he's not the only one."

Sam looked over at Carly quickly, and then turned her eyes quickly back to Freddie.

"I know you like me, Sam," he said, although he didn't seem particularly happy about it.

"I can't believe you said something, Carly," Sam said loudly, turning away from what she thought was disgust in Freddie's eyes. "You promised."

"I...I...I didn't."

"Wait. You knew she liked me, Carly? And you didn't say anything, even after you forced it out of me," Freddie said. Sam turned back to him.

"Forced what? You two were talking about me?"

"Guys," Carly moaned.

"I have to say something, Sam," Freddie said.

"Freddie," Carly said, but could think of nothing to follow up with.

"When Melanie came over yesterday..."

"Oh, I knew you were going to bring that up," Sam said and moved away from him.

"I kissed her, Sam. I thought she was you, and I kissed her."

"You kissed my sister?" Sam asked. She wanted to rip his face off. She wanted to rip her own face off. "How could you do that?"

"I don't know, Sam, maybe because you had her pretending to be you, and we were on the fire escape and I didn't think you remembered our kiss, and it just happened."

_I'll always remember_, she thought. She looked at him. "So because you thought I didn't remember a kiss, so you thought you would kiss my sister?"

"He didn't know it was Melanie, Sam. He thought it was you," Carly said. Both of them looked at her. She blushed.

"You were spying on us?" Freddie asked.

"I...just wanted the best for the two of you," Carly mumbled.

"Why don't you stay out of this, Carly? The nub doesn't care for me. Apparently he's just moved on from brunettes to blondes." Freddie grimaced.

"He does care about you, Sam. He wrote the poem for you."

"Shut up, Carly," Freddie said. Carly gasped. She couldn't think of a time Freddie had ever talked to her like that.

"I can't even look at you, Freddie. Whoever you are is not the person that wrote that poem. That person would have known the difference between my sister and me..."

"That person probably would have thought you wouldn't try to manipulate him," Freddie said, angrily. "That person probably wouldn't have expected to go to the principal's office only to find out that he knew who wrote the poem and decided to play matchmaker for his 'favorite' student, not that she would ever consider or appreciate all the help other people have given her. That person thought he could fall in love with somebody who obviously can't show love herself."

"Guys." Carly wanted to turn back time. She wanted to go back and break both their promises, even if it would make them mad at her. Maybe they would only be mad at her for a while, but they would still have a chance, not attempt to destroy it like they were doing now.

"I..." Freddie started, but he didn't seem to be able to express anything else. They stood there, like statues, for five minutes, before Spencer came and broke the silence.

_3_

He had kissed her sister.

_You sent her there_. That didn't matter. If he really cared about her, he should have known it was Melanie. _But it was okay if he didn't notice it was Melanie when you were trying to see if he liked you?_

She made it past the lobby, the same scowl on her face. Her Samness was displayed for all to see. There was no weakness. Not until she left the building and found a spot where no one could see her.

Only then did she let herself cry.

_4_

His mom had left for work while he had been gone. That was perhaps for the best. She might have said something about him looking unwell and wanting to try one of her time-tested remedies, and he didn't want to snap at his mother.

He had wanted to take back everything he had said. Why was it that the person he loved most in the world caused him so much frustration and anger? He hadn't known it was Melanie! Couldn't she understand?

Melanie. He had better let her know before Hurricane Sam struck. He went on Splashface and went to Sam's page. He clicked on Melanie's name. She was online. That was good. Maybe. He sent her a chat request.

**Melanie:** Freddie?

**Freddie: **She knows, Melanie. I told her.

**Melanie: ** Oh. How did it go?

**Freddie: ** Imagine the worst possible scenario. Worse than that. I screwed up.

_5_

Spencer stood outside Carly's door. Unlike his sister, he was not often given to eavesdropping, but he was concerned, and he didn't know that she would talk to him. He was surprised to hear her talking. She was on the phone. That was good. Maybe she was already making up with Sam or Freddie.

"I messed up, Gibby. I don't know if they'll ever talk to each other again. Or me."

Gibby. She was talking to Gibby. The Observer hadn't observed that.

"I don't know," Carly continued. "Apparently Principal Franklin knew Freddie had written the poem."

Spencer winced. He had been thinking, when he first came up, of telling Carly it might be best if she didn't try to interfere in her friends' lives so much, but if Principal Franklin was involved, there was probably a pretty good indication of who the start point of all this was. Spencer Shay.

_6_

Sam was on her bed, reading the poem for the one-hundredth or two-hundredth time. Freddie had written it. In her wildest dreams, she had wished it were so, and now here it turned out to be the truth, and she couldn't find any joy in it. The phone buzzed with a new text message. It was probably Carly. She didn't want to talk to her. She didn't think it would be Freddie. No, he had made it clear. If he did have feelings for her...well, why would he have feelings for her anymore? All she did was cause him pain. The phone buzzed a few more times.

She read the poem again. She folded it up and finally looked at the text message. It wasn't Carly. Or Freddie. It was Melanie.

_Sam, Freddie told me you know. I should have been the one to tell you, but I was so scared. I'm sorry. Freddie loves you. I know you don't believe me, but he does. It was my fault. I went there thinking I could act like you, but everything I did I screwed up. He told me that you felt he should have known right away it wasn't you. Perhaps. All I know is he knew as soon as he kissed me, Sam, and as soon as he knew, he stopped. Please believe me. I'm sorry. He loves you. I love you, too, Sam._

Sam looked at the well-creased poem on her night stand. She put her phone on top of it. She really couldn't handle this tonight.

**A/N: Oh, no. Well, nothing can fix this, unless...no, nothing can fix this. Perhaps strength will come from the most unusual places.**

**Thank you for reviews from: Flutter360, Julefor, Geekquality, PurpleJerk, Kressxblack, Icarlya, SeddierFTW, seddiegirl25, kiyokoseddie, Penny Tee13, and clarksonfan.**

**Julefor: I find it amusing you think I'm piling on Sam, while others think I'm piling on Freddie. This chapter I decided to drop some on everybody.**

**PurpleJerk: There is no happily ever after. Maybe Sam and Freddie will get there "generally happy, although she's kind of mean and he's kind of a nub".**

**SeddierFTW: Freddie is nice. Although, Freddie does have flashes of not-niceness, usually in response to Sam-they usually don't last very long, though.**

**Penny Tee13: Yes, so kind of Principal Franklin. I think they might want to check his and Carly's DNA to see if they're related somehow-that kind of planning ineptitude can't be an accident, can it?**

**clarksonfan: It's Sam! She's not one for immediate thoughtful reflection. She might figure it out, though.**


	16. Chapter 16: Picture a Hallway

Chapter 16: Picture a Hallway

**Disclaimer: The man behind the camera is telling me to tell you I don't own **_**iCarly**_**. Any possibility you may have thought I owned it is entirely my fault, and not the greatness that is Dan Schnei...really, Dan, you want me to read this? Dan! Put that down. Hey...**

_Day 9 - School_

_1_

Picture a hallway. There are many people in this hallway, but we want to concentrate on only three at the moment. The others are bit players in this scenario. I'm sure their lives are fascinating, but there of no import right now. Just these three.

You can easily pick them out, even if you didn't know who they were. In the motion of the hallway, the ebb-and-tide of a school's pathway, these three are still. Look there, do you see that? They try to avoid looking at each other, but their eyes refuse their minds. The brown-haired boy moves first. He walks to the brunette girl, walks by her, gives a nod, says "Carly", and moves on. He then walks by the blonde and says nothing, but not for a moment does his eyes leave her face. Nor does she stop tracking him as he walks down the hall, until, walking backward with a grace she did not know he had, he goes into a classroom. She turns and looks at the brunette.

Both their hands move an inch, as if they want to greet each other, but then they drop. They move down opposite sides of the hallway.

_2_

Principal Franklin looked up. Normally when a student came to see him, he or she would sit in the hall or the receptionist would send the student in after notifying him. There were exceptions, of course. Well, one exception. Sam Puckett had made sneaking into his office an art form, and this wouldn't have been the first time he had looked up to see her, grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat.

But this wasn't her.

"Mr. Gibson, may I help you?"

"You got to fix this, Principal Franklin." The boy looked perplexed...well, more perplexed than normal. Hair stood up on his head in tendrils, as if he had dragged his fingers through it several times.

"Fix what?"

"Carly and Sam and Freddie. None of them are talking to each other, and this is all your fault."

"My fault?" Principal Franklin was too shocked at first to reprimand Gibson for talking to him in such a manner. That was something he would expect from Sam, of course, but not from the strange, befuddled boy in front of him.

"You were the one who started the whole poem thing. Freddie told me this morning, sort of. I couldn't really get a lot out of him, but between what he said and what Carly was crying about, you made this happen."

"Hold on a moment, Gibby. Tell me what happened." Gibby did, recounting everything Carly had told him the night before and then interpreting what he had gotten from Freddie that morning among sneers and grunts.

_The boy's right. I've made a mess of this. I was always told not to get too involved in the lives of my students. Maybe I should have listened._

"Okay, Gibby, I will see what I can do about this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Gibby stared at him. "You can go now."

Gibby stood up. "You really need to do something. I can't stand Carly crying." Principal Franklin looked up at the boy, who walked out the door. _Gibson? With Carly Shay? That did not compute, as some of the students might say. Stranger things have happened, though._

He pressed the intercom. "Rachel, have Freddie Benson brought to my office."

_3_

Sam Puckett was staring at the back of Freddie Benson's head. Perhaps if she stared long enough, his head might explode. Or maybe he would turn around, and she could see in his eyes that he actually would love a rude, meat-loving tomboy like her rather than somebody like sweet, polite, girly-girl Melanie.

_He said he did, didn't he?_

_He was just trying to not hurt my feelings._

_Why would he say that, not wanting to hurt your feelings, and yet tell you he kissed your sister, knowing that would definitely hurt your feelings?_

_Shut up, you._

Sam rested her chin on her wrists. His head wasn't going to explode, but maybe she could make a hair or two catch on fire. One of the office monkeys came into the class and handed the teacher a note. Sam watched as the teacher walked between desks and stopped at Freddie's. She bent down and talked softly to him, and he packed his stuff up and left the room.

_What's going on? Not that I ever care about what's going on with the nub. Never._

_Sure, you don't._

_Didn't I tell you to shut up?_

_4_

"So, wait a minute. Yesterday, I come in here and make these requests to you, and you blow them off, and now you're saying you're removing me as Sam's tutor?"

"It seems circumstances have changed, Mr. Benson, and I must admit my own culpability in current events. Perhaps I should have done this yesterday when you told me of your...transgression." Freddie grimaced. Part of him was relieved. He didn't think Sam would be in any mood to take tutoring from him. And he didn't want her to fail because of him. This felt like giving up, though. He didn't want to give up on Sam. He never should have let it end like it did the night before. He had thought of calling her or going over to her house, but found himself unable to work up the nerve.

"But what about Sam's grades?"

"I have found another tutor for her. I talked to both Mrs. Puckett and Spencer Shay, and they have both assured me they will assist in making sure Sam does her tutoring. Here. After school every day."

Freddie thought about it. That was best for Sam, although he felt bad for whoever her tutor was going to be. That fixed one problem.

"What about the poem?"

"If I am correct, I believe Miss Puckett already knows the author of the work in question. It is my belief that he or she does not wish to be identified, and we have decided to leave it at that. She won't be expelled for that."

"But she could be expelled for something else?"

"Freddie, Sam has long been on the 'could be expelled for something else' train."

Freddie nodded. He had to make it up to Sam. He had to show her that he did love her, and that the kiss with Melanie meant nothing. She wasn't going to want to listen to him. Not right away. So he had to work on proving it before he talked to her.

"I need you to do something for me, Ted."

Principal Franklin looked at him. A large knot grew in his stomach, one that he always identified with the antics of Sam Puckett. Not with Freddie Benson. Not until now.

_5_

Carly Shay was likely the prissiest girl Sam Puckett had ever met. Based on that alone, the thought of the two of them as friends seemed ridiculous. But Sam had found out long ago that under that prissiness was steel. And Carly was showing it now as she sat down opposite Sam in the cafeteria.

Sam looked up and scowled before returning to her meal. Freddie, at least, had the common sense not to come near her. Of course, she hadn't seen him at all since he had left the classroom. Sam was experienced in these matters. A note usually meant a trip to the counselor or the principal. She couldn't think of any reason Freddie would have to be pulled out of class to see a counselor.

"Sam." Sam pretended not to hear Carly. The problem was that more than anybody Carly had found a way past Sam's defenses. Sam could show a hard heart to many people, even people in her own family, but she could not do it to Carly Shay. "Sam, please talk to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interfered. I was just worried...that you guys would screw this up." And, although it was not loud, Sam could tell Carly was crying.

"Don't." Carly looked at her. "Don't do that, Carly. You know I can't take it when you cry."

"Will you forgive me, Sam?" If Sam didn't know Carly so well, she would almost say she was manipulating Sam. But Carly wouldn't do that. She would do a lot of other things she shouldn't do, but not manipulate Sam.

"Okay, I forgive you. Can we stop talking about this?" Carly immediately got up and came around to Sam and gave her a hug. Sam rolled her eyes, but allowed the hug. She still had a sandwich in her hand, anyway.

"All right, Carly. Chill, or people will start spreading rumors about us." Carly moved away slightly.

"You're really not mad at me, Sam?"

"Tried to be," Sam said, noncommittally. "But I should have known you can't help sticking your nose into other people's business. It was my fault, really."

"What about Freddie, Sam?"

Sam stopped eating. "What about him?"

"He really does love you, you know. Gibby videotaped everything on the fire escape." She blushed under Sam's glare, but didn't avert her eyes. "He did it because I asked. And, Sam, I watched the video...well, mostly listened because there wasn't much to see. Freddie realized right away it wasn't you, and he stopped right away. He really does love you."

Sam didn't say anything for a while. She chewed on her sandwich, although she actually didn't have much taste for it at the moment. "Carly, you know me, right?"

Carly nodded, confused.

"Perhaps everything you say is correct. Perhaps I believe it. Do you think I should go find Freddie and tell him that? How do you think that would work out?" Carly examined Sam. _Sam actually thought about this. That was the issue, though. Sam thought about it, and Sam knew how she was-how she would react. Sometimes she couldn't help herself._

"You don't want to say or do anything you'll regret? Or that will push Freddie away?" Sam gave the slightest of nods and put her sandwich down.

"Sam, do you still want to be with him?" Sam gave an even slighter nod. "What do you need me to do, Sam?"

"I don't know, Carly. I see him, and I can't decide if I want to kiss his stupid lips or punch him in the stomach."

"We should probably try to avoid that second part. Why don't you come over tonight, Sam? I'll make sure Freddie isn't around, and we can talk, okay?"

Sam nodded. Carly was a pain in the butt sometimes, but Sam didn't know what she would do without her.

_6_

"Carly!"

She turned around. She hadn't actually expected him to talk to her so soon. This was one of the occasions when she thought Sam would be easier to deal with than Freddie.

"Hey, Freddie. What's up?" She tried to maintain a casual tone.

"You seen Sam?"

"Yeah, I have, Freddie. I don't think you should really talk to her just yet, though."

"I wasn't planning on it." She stared at him. "I don't mean it like that. I just would rather not face the possibility of her mistaking my face for a therapy pillow. Anyway, I just needed you to let her know that she needs to see Principal Franklin. She's going to have a new tutor now."

"Oh." Well, she didn't have to work out how to move past the awkwardness of disinviting him from her apartment. "Freddie?"

He laughed cynically. "I forgive you, Carly. I don't know why. It's like you can't help but interfering. But anyway, I just needed to have Sam know that, okay."

"Okay," she said, sadly, as he began to walk away. He turned around and came to her and gave her an awkward Benson hug.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear. Then he left.

"What was that about?" Gibby asked, materializing near her.

"I don't know, but I think we could be okay." She moved over and gave him a hug. He tensed up before relaxing into it, giving her back a casual pat, not wanting to appear like a weirdo, even though he couldn't resist smelling her hair. "Gibby?"

"Yes?"

"You'll tell me when I'm becoming too much of a busybody?"

"Sure."

"And you won't be upset at me when I tell you to shut up for telling me that?"

"Of course not."

"Thanks, Gibby."

**A/N: **

**Thank you for reviews from: Kressxblack, Flutter360, PurpleJerk, Tbayleyt, SeddierFTW, UnderxGravity, Geekquality, Moviepal, flylikeblackjack, BkwormSarah, cynthiarox99, clarksonfan, Penny Tee13, MissSeddie, xxbabygirl15xx, and iCarlyfan101.**

**PurpleJerk: Yep, this is Sam. As for Carly, both Sam and Freddie look at her as their best friend, so when she keeps something from them, they resent that, even though they realize she's doing it for her other best friend.**


	17. Chapter 17: You Started This

Chapter 17: You Started This

**Disclaimer: Okay, I was kidding. I really do own **_**iCarly**_**. Now please come inside and play with the unicorn, before the leprechauns have to return it to the City of Atlantis.**

_Day 9 - Night_

_1_

_I am having the worst time ever. I think Ted is trying to kill me._ That was the text Carly received from Sam. She was waiting for Sam to be done with her tutoring, so that they could talk. She wanted to fully mend fences with Sam, before Sam let any residual anger fester over and then she would say something both she and Carly would regret. She needed to fix things with Freddie, too, but she knew that, if anything, Freddie had already forgiven her and possibly Sam. That was the thing about Freddie-no matter what anybody did to him, especially Sam, he never seemed to hold grudges. She supposed it was why it was so easy for her to sometimes overlook Sam's often harsh treatment of him that she know realized was Sam's own peculiar form of flirting. _I'm not a good friend to him sometimes_.

_What's going on? Who's your tutor,_ she texted to Sam.

_Reuben_.

Oh, boy.

_2_

By the time Sam came over, Carly had made available ham, bacon, and meatballs. Sam grunted at her and fell onto the meat, occasionally shaking her heard. Once or twice, she heard Sam growl "Reuben" with disgust. Then, "stupid nub."

"It's not Freddie's fault, Sam," Carly ventured. That was dangerous territory, but the important issue was to not allow Sam to turn her anger on Freddie.

"Of course it is. If Little Lord Nubleroy hadn't decided to release his inner Walt Whitman, I wouldn't have to be tutored by the Tower of Babel."

"Sam, that's...wait, you know who Walt Whitman is? You know what the Tower of Babel is?"

"That's another thing. He's filling my head with all this useless information. What good is that stuff? Why couldn't he've been tutoring me on food recipes?"

"So you're mad because Freddie wrote a poem basically saying that he's in love with you?"

"Yeah, what gives him the right?"

"Sam!" Carly said, frustrated. "You're in love with him!"

Sam turned to her. "So?"

Carly threw her hands up.

_2_

Spencer thought about crawling out his window until he remembered he had somehow melted the seals, so that the window couldn't open anymore. He couldn't even remember how that had happened. Was it the egg shooter? No, no, the lint brush, that was it.

He heard Sam in the living room. She did not sound happy. Usually when Sam wasn't happy she would take it out on Freddie, which wasn't cool, but was still cooler than taking it out on Spencer, or at least Spencer thought so. This time, however, Freddie was the source of a lot of her unhappiness, but that had been a byproduct of Spencer thinking it would be a great idea to let Principal Franklin know what Spencer had been observing. _'Cause that was a brilliant idea_. If anybody deserved to face a Sam beating, it was Spencer. Spencer was sort of afraid of the idea, though, so he wasn't rushing out to volunteer.

He had been napping when Carly had come home and had woke too late, after Sam was already here. Maybe he could hold out long enough for her to leave. Of course, it could be one of those nights when Sam spent the night.

_3_

Once Sam had her fill of meat, for the moment, she calmed down some. Carly figured now was maybe a good time to talk to her.

"So, Sam, what are you going to do?"

"About what?" Sam asked, appearing to be unconcerned. Carly had been her friend for years, though, and had picked up the way Sam tensed up when Carly had asked her.

"About Freddie, Sam."

Sam sighed. "I'm going to pretend he never existed and shut my eyes whenever he's around."

"Sam!"

"He kissed my sister, Carls!"

"And he thought it was you. And he stopped as soon as he realized it was. And the only reason he would have thought she was you was because you sent her over to be YOU. Sam, you love him, but you're just looking for some reason to get out of it, to pretend he's like Jonah or Pete."

"Carly."

"Sam, am I wrong?" Sam shook her head.

"I'm scared, okay? And I don't like being scared," she said. Carly nodded and gave her a hug.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Carly yelled. _Don't let it be, don't let it be._

"Freddie." _It was._

"Oh, no," Carly said.

"Oh, no," Sam whispered.

"Oh, no," Spencer gasped, with his ear up to his door.

Sam ran upstairs.

_4_

"Hey, Freddie, now's not really a good time," Carly said. She felt bad basically blocking him out, but if Sam saw him in the condition she was in right now she might decapitate Freddie to cover her feelings.

"Sam's here." It wasn't a question.

Carly nodded.

"Okay. That's fine. I need to talk to Spencer, anyway."

"I don't think Spencer's here, unless he was taking a nap."

"I'm here," Spencer said, rushing out of his bedroom. Now was the perfect time to escape Sam.

"We need to talk," Freddie said. Spencer did a double-take at Freddie. Maybe Sam wasn't such a bad option after all.

"I, uh..." And then Freddie grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the hall.

"Hey, we already have one Sam," Spencer said. Carly shrugged and shut the door.

_5_

"So what's up, Freddo?" Spencer said.

"You're going to help me," Freddie said. Spencer looked around. He looked back at the boy in front of him. Obviously, some form of pod person was pretending to be Freddie Benson, and the real Freddie Benson was probably in the basement, with duct tape over his mouth. _I hope he can breathe,_ Spencer thought. Wait, no...that was wishful thinking. Not that he wished it. Anyway, this was Freddie Benson, except he was being pushy. Like Sam.

"Why should I be helping you with anything, Freddie? I mean I have a sculpture I'm working on. Will be working on. As soon as I get rid of the scorch marks on the floor."

"You're going to help me because you have the annoying Shay trait of interfering when you shouldn't be. You could have said something to me, Spencer," Freddie said, and some of the harshness left his voice.

"I'm sorry, Freddie," Spencer said. He meant it. He really only wanted the best for Sam and Freddie, who he thought as adopted siblings.

"I know, Spencer. But you're still going to help me."

"With what?" Spencer asked, nervously.

Freddie told him. _I was right to be nervous_, Spencer thought.

_6_

Carly told Sam she could come downstairs. Spencer and Freddie were down the hall, talking about something. Carly didn't know what, because she couldn't hear them. And because she didn't eavesdrop. Friends don't do that.

"I think I'm gonna go home once Freddie's gone, Carly. Tutoring with Reuben has got me beat. Plus, I have to work on my pranks. Rodney pulled ahead of me today, and I didn't even pull one prank."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay, Sam?"

"Absopositively."

Carly started to say something when her phone rang. She looked at it, and saw that it was Gibby. "Hey, Gibby." She gave Sam an "I'll be right back" gesture and skipped away to talk.

Sam looked at her. Carly was acting all girly being on the phone with Gibby. Carly didn't do that with Gibbys. She did that with Pauls and Dylans and Taylors, not with Gibbys. _She's going gaga over the shirtless potato, and I'm in love with the nub. This whole world is going insane_.

Sam shook her head and looked to her side, where the bookshelf was. She turned to Carly, who was talking while twirling her finger in her hair. The video camera was on the bookshelf. She lifted it up and walked over carefully to her backpack. She put it inside, without Carly noticing at all.

"Okay, Gibby, that sounds fun. I'll see you Friday. I mean, I'll see you tomorrow, but I'll see you Friday, too." She giggled. Sam hated that. She couldn't giggle herself without sounding like a loon. Carly sounded all cutesy. _But with Gibby! She's being cutesy with Gibby!_

_Don't you think he'll treat her better than some of the other losers she's been with?_

_I told you to shut up earlier, and I'm not telling you again_.

"So, what's going on Friday?" Sam asked. To her amazement, a blush creeped all the way up Carly's face.

"Nothing."

"Oh my...are you dating Gibby?"

"No, I'm not. Dating. One date, that's all. Maybe."

Sam turned around, thinking that the world had indeed gone crazy. She came face-to-face with Spencer.

"Hey, Spence."

"Uh, hey, Sam," he said, his voice dropping lower.

"Did you just hit puberty, Spencer?"

"No, I'm gonna go wash the ducks."

He ran into his bedroom. Sam turned to Carly. "You have ducks?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"Okay, well, I'm out of here." She left, hoping Carly wouldn't notice the huge lump in her backpack. She didn't.

Freddie wasn't in the hallway. He stood in the darkness of the fire escape and watched her form pass.

_7_

_I'm not sure I want to do this_. Sam had rewound the tape and held her finger against the play button several times. She believed Carly believed what she said, but Carly also had the habit of looking at everything through rose-colored glasses. No, not rose-colored...greenhouse-colored, a whole bouquet blocking her vision of what was real. Sam didn't have that problem.

The problem Sam did have was watching the video and realizing she was right about Freddie not loving her.

_Don't be a coward, Sam._ She hated cowards. She pressed the button.

"_Do you like Melanie?"_

"_No, okay, jeez. I don't know why it even matters to you."_

Gibby was not very good with the camera. She only caught flashes of Freddie and Melanie, so she had to concentrate on the audio. The audio pickup was very good.

"_I can't believe you. I thought we were at least friends, Sam. You agreed that we were. Then you keep acting different every time I see you. And now you don't even remember things I told you last week. And then you want to come out here." _

_"What is wrong out here?"_

_"Geez, Sam, don't you have a heart? Fine, great, it didn't mean anything to you, but you could at least have remembered."_

_"Remembered what, Freddie?" _

_"Our kiss, Sam. Our first kiss. Right here."_

_"We kissed? Freddie."_

_The camera moved and caught the two of them close to each other. Freddie kissed her. It lasted maybe a second before he was backing away, looking confused. _

_They stared at each other for a good minute._

_"Melanie?"_

_She held a hand up weakly. "Hey, Freddie."_

Sam stopped the tape. So maybe Carly was right. _He had known right away when they kissed it wasn't me. Maybe he didn't recognize that she wasn't me, but as soon as they kissed, he did._

She watched the rest, seeing Freddie upset because he thought it was a big joke Sam and Melanie were pulling on him. And then, thankfully, Gibby had the camera on him when Melanie told him that Sam liked him, because Sam got to see that wonderful smile, even if it only lasted a moment. Then there was no more.

"So he loves me," she said to her room. She allowed herself a smile, although she would have been upset if it had pointed out to her that it was almost Carlyish in its giddiness.

She texted her sister: _all right. I forgive you._

Twenty seconds later Melanie was calling her. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy. She thought about sending something to Freddie, too. No. That would have to be done in person. She couldn't be a coward. She hated cowards.

**A/N:**

**Thank you for reviews from kiyokoseddie, MissSeddie, iCarlyfan101, UnderxGravity, Flutter360, SeddierFTW, Geekquality, Moviepal, , Mistymoozer, Penny Tee13, clarksonfan, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, and PurpleJerk.**

**UnderxGravity: I've given up on trying to figure out why Gibby and Carly have become a pair. I never, ever thought when I started this story that it would happen.**

**PurpleJerk: I hate when I read in other fics and somebody starts thinking "such-and-such is so cute...wait, I like SO-AND-SO?" In a way, I guess you could say I did that with Carly (obviously, Gibby's feelings were a little more set), but to me it's a little bit more organic to have her accepting his flirting (being the sweet girl she usually is to him) to actually looking at him as a possibility. It didn't come out of nowhere, but instead was a natural progression from when he first started flirting with him to her seeing him in his home element to realizing she might think of him that way. At least, I hope it's organic. And Sam's not insecure! She's not a coward. Didn't you notice she said that a couple of times? **


	18. Chapter 18: You Light Up My Life

Chapter 18: You Light Up My Life

**Disclaimer: Hey, you. Come here. Look at this, it's a brand-spanking new **_**iCarly**_**. I'm selling it cheap. Own? I don't know that I would say I necessarily ooooown it.**

_Day 10 - School_

_1_

Sam's first attempt to talk to Freddie was soon after she got to school, which was, surprisingly for her, well before the first bell. She walked down the hall, full of determination, rehearsing words in her mind (and she never rehearsed!), and then she saw him. All the words fell out of her mind, dribbled on her shoes, and creeped down the hall. He was turned slightly away from her and didn't see her. He waved a hand out to greet someone, and Sam told herself, _well, can't do this while he's with other people_. And she left, ignoring the voice inside her head calling her a coward.

She had other things to worry about, anyway. She could always go back to Freddie. If she didn't get her act together on the pranks, she was going to lose. Rodney's group had already pulled off two pranks that day (although rather tepid ones, in her estimation). The ones she had pulled off weren't much better, but she still had the rest of the day. Somebody, however, had a clown propose marriage to Mr. Howard in the middle of the hallway. The clown then doused him with a seltzer bottle. Video of that was already playing on all the monitors, despite administration efforts to remove it. Nobody had claimed that one, yet. Sam realized Rodney was holding that one in his back pocket, so that he could bring it up Monday, to prevent Sam from knowing exactly how many points he would have at the time. Sam thought it was wise; she was going to do the same.

Carly saw her. "Hey, Sam, did you..."

"Working on it."

She turned the corner and ran right into a clown. An actual clown. Maybe the actual clown who had proposed to Mr. Howard. _Are they going to try to have him do something to me? Because I will seriously cause some pain_.

"This is for you," the clown said. He had a surprisingly normal voice, not that she was quite sure what a clown's voice should sound like. She looked down. There were bills in his hand. She saw at least one twenty. Part of her knew she was being set up. Another part of her had already calculated how much bacon she could buy with that money. She reached out and grabbed it. He held on for a moment, so that she was sure she was being set up and she prepared to kick him in his clown crotch. But then he let go, tipped his hat to her, and then went back around the corner.

Sam paused, and then looked around the corner. He was gone. She scratched at the bills. Felt like money. She sniffed the money. Smelled like money. She held it up to the light. Looked real, and she should know, since that one lesson with her Uncle Carmine. She put the money in her wallet. She might have to do some more checking to ensure there wasn't something else wrong with the money, but she had ended up with fifty bucks.

"Weird way to start the day," she said out loud.

_2_

Freddie sat with Carly and Sam at lunch that day. Carly looked at her two friends expectedly. Neither of them said anything. They didn't look upset or anything, but they were refusing to talk. Several times they looked at the other, but only when they were sure they weren't being looked at. Carly wanted to scream, and she thanked the stars when Gibby sat down next to her. Neither of them seemed to notice they sat so close their legs were touching.

"Gibs," Freddie said, giving him a greeting nod. Sam grunted. She finished her hamburger. Freddie, who had barely touched his, cut it in half and put the untouched half on Sam's tray. She mumbled a thanks and dug into that one.

_I wonder how badly Sam would hurt me if I just stood up and pushed their heads together and made them kiss_, Carly thought. She looked at Sam. _After Sam was done chewing, of course._

"I have to finish a project in the library. I'll catch you guys later," Freddie said. Sam looked up at him, opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, and then closed it again. Freddie left. Carly sighed.

"What's the matter, Carly?" Gibby asked, concerned.

"Nothing, Gibby, I just think I might have to do something I shouldn't have to," Carly said, pointedly.

"I'm working on it!" Sam said. She looked down at her tray, where the second hamburger was gone. She picked up her tray and left.

"Did I miss something?" Gibby asked.

"Yes, you did," Carly said, patting his cheek, "but I wouldn't worry about it."

_3_

Perhaps because she was trying not to think about her two failed attempts to talk to Freddie, perhaps because she was also not trying to think about her tutoring session with Reuben later (or her concern that she actually understood almost half of what he was actually saying), Sam went on a pranking spree. None of them were as clever as the clown, but she figured two points here and three points there would add up. Rodney may have the numbers, but Sam didn't build up years of experience for nothing.

She thought she was doing pretty good, until the intercom went on. And Principal Franklin spoke. Wait, not spoke, sang. Principal Franklin was singing. And he was singing "You Light Up My Life". Sam gaped. She stepped out into the hallway, where there were already plenty of students looking up at the speakers, if they weren't bent over in laughter. One student was in a fetal position, laughing so hard that tears sprang from his eyes.

Principal Franklin stormed out of his office. "Who did this?" He looked around, as his voice continued to croon on the speakers. His eyes caught Sam's. She saw his eyes squint, and she waved her head no, it wasn't her. She hadn't done a prank on him in years. She (although she would never say this out loud) respected him too much to do that.

"Sam Puckett, come in here." Sam hung her head. It was bad enough if she got expelled, but if she got expelled for something she didn't even do, that would be the pits.

She thought they were going to his office, but he escorted her past it, until they came to the tiny room where the audio equipment was. The room was so small that only one person could fit in there at a time.

"Fix it!" he said.

"I don't know how. I didn't do this, I swear," Sam said. He looked at her.

"Miss Puckett, you've put me through a lot in your years here, but I never thought you would do something like this to me."

"I didn't. I would never do anything to you. Sure, to Miss Briggs or Mr. Howard, but not to you." _Oops_. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. He looked at her for a long while.

"I'll take what you've said into consideration, but, for the love of Tribbles, can you try to stop that?"

"I don't really know how," she said, but she had turned around to see what she could do. She bent over the system and looked at the multitude of buttons. This really wasn't her field of expertise. She tried one button, but all she got was a shot of feedback in addition to the singing. She pressed the button again to stop it.

"I don't know how-" she said, and then the singing stopped. At the time her hands had been nowhere near the console.

"That was uncool," Principal Franklin said, and Sam snorted at him saying something like that. He glared at her.

"Sorry," she said. "On the other hand, you do have a good voice. But jank taste in music."

_4_

When she left, she felt she had convinced him she had nothing to do with that prank. She was glad he believed her, because she would have been ticked that she might get expelled because of a trick Rodney played and that her Detention Posse oath would not allow her to tell Principal Franklin.

Rodney's prank had effectively taken her out for the day as far as pranks went. She caught Mr. Howard eyeing her several times. Maybe she could start up again tomorrow, but she was pretty well done for this day.

"You light up my life, you give me hope to carry on." Sam turned around to see Gibby singing.

"What are you doing, Gibby?"

"That's a pretty catchy song. Don't you think?" He walked away, continuing to sing, not seeming to notice other students staring and laughing. _Is it wrong that I think in some ways he's the perfect dweeb for Carly_? Sam shook her head. Of course it was wrong. Although, she did know Carly had that song on her PearPad.

Speaking of perfect dweebs, since she couldn't pull any more pranks, she had essentially run out of excuses not to talk to Freddie.

_Reasons. I meant reasons not to talk to Freddie. Valid reasons._

And because her life was wonderful like that, there was the nub himself, standing at his locker, laughing with another guy. _Oh, he's with someone, so..._ The other guy left. Sam growled to herself and walked over to Freddie. He looked at her. She couldn't read his eyes.

"'Sup, nub?"

"Not much. How've you been, Sam?"

"Got a stupid song stuck in my head, but other than that I can't complain. Well, I can, but..." She shrugged.

"Yeah, that song. That was a pretty good one, Sam. That must have scored you some good points."

"Wasn't me," she said simply.

"Oh." He thought about it. "Sorry. Will you be able to make up the points?"

"I'm Sam Puckett. I can do anything," she said.

"Yeah, you can," he said and smiled. Her mind flashed to that short but amazing smile she had seen on the videotape. _Steel yourself, Puckett. No weakness._

"So...uh...I'm going to come over tonight. After tutoring. And we're going to talk."

"We are?"

"Yes, we are." She started to walk away.

"Sam?" She stopped. "Should I wear a cup?"

She thought about it. "Couldn't hurt. Just in case."

_5_

Carly watched Sam walk away and saw the smile on Freddie's face. _Finally_, she thought. Although she hoped Freddie really did wear that cup. Sam would go into the talk with him meaning to make peace and build their relationship, but with Sam, you just never knew when such negotiations would turn to pain.

As she walked away, she decided she wanted to play that Debby Boone song on her PearPod. For some reason, it just felt right.

**A/N: Stay tuned for the next chapter, "Oh, no, Freddie forgot to wear his cup!".**

**Thank you for reviews from: Penny Tee13, kiyokoseddie, Moviepal, PurpleJerk, Tbayleyt, MissSeddie, UnderxGravity, cynthiarox99, SeddierFTW, it's called a brain. get one, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, seddiegirl25, Julefor, rangergirl123, Flutter360, Sylvia, and Geekquality.**

**Tbayleyt: Bad feeling? Since when has anything ever gone askew with this crew.? That would never do. We'll just have to see it through.**

**UnderxGravity: You know, guys, Freddie is starting to get a complex that you don't think his plan will go well. Give a guy a chance. Boy, do I know about characters molding stories the way they want. **

**SeddierFTW: For now, I think Melanie has played her part in this story, ending with Sam forgiving her. Of course, I still have nine chapters after this, and you (and more importantly, I) can never tell when a character might make an appearance.**

**Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie: Yep, Sam came to her senses, and she will never change her mind and mess anything up. Yep. That's what's gonna happen. Do you believe me?**

**Julefor: Yeah, between all my stories, these characters talk to themselves way too dang much. Would it be cruel for me to say I made the tutor Reuben just because I like to see Sam get frustrated? And, obviously, Carly's plans didn't necessarily work, but gotta give the poor girl a break every once in a while and not make it a complete disaster.**

**PurpleJerk: I believe Sam made it abundantly clear to Reuben that she knows her math. Of course, I'm still laughing at the thought of him trying to go over poetry with her-that would be like Dr. Seuss in a blender with acid. And, oh, I'm pretty sure you will get at least a little taste of a Carly/Gibby date...today's Wednesday (in the story), so it's only two days away (five chapters). You know, it almost sounds like you don't really think Sam is confident, that she puts up some type of a front or something. But that couldn't be what you're saying, is it? Nah. And I never said Freddie's plan was evil. Of course, I didn't say it wasn't evil. Actually, the plan is...oh, wait, doorbell.**

**By the way, I was just kidding about that next chapter title. Or was I? Sorry, I'm feeling a little feisty right now. I got my Puckett up.**

**I'm posting this tonight, since I have to get up tomorrow and work on another project (not a fun one, like one that involves actual work...boring), and I am unable to now, because this house is a madhouse. No chapter tomorrow, but there should be a new one the next morning.**


	19. Chapter 19: Not There Again

Chapter 19: Not There Again

**Disclaimer: It ain't mine. Wah.**

_Day 10 - Night_

_1_

"You never grease the tang swan for the ink scratch pictures." That phrase wouldn't leave Sam's mind. It was one of the few things Reuben had said that day that she came even close to understanding. She had spent her entire study hall completing her math homework, just so she would have to spend less time with Reuben going over it. Thinking of that, she realized Principal Franklin had a little touch of evil genius in him. If it wasn't Sam who had to suffer because of it, she would almost admire him.

But trying to pick up on poetry was hard enough without having to worry about a Reuben spin on it. He got A's in English, though. How, Sam had no idea. Today, she didn't even have the energy to verbally assault him (how she would love to do it physically, but she had come close enough to expulsion today without even doing anything, thank you). No, the only poem that really concerned her nowadays was the one Freddie had written. For her. She tried not to think about that, because it made her feel giddy. Made her feel like Carly. Which was fine, if she was Carly, but she wasn't. She was Sam. And Sam didn't do giddy.

Except what was she going to do when she talked to Freddie? She had felt in control when she told him they were going to talk, but, now, actually thinking about having the conversation made her stomach feel queasy. And she had to think about the fact that she was behind on points in the prank contest. And she had Reuben's weird phrase in her mind...and it seemed to be syncing with the music of "You Light Up My Life."

"Gah."

When she got in the hallway between Freddie's and Carly's apartment, she refused to look at his door. There wasn't any reason she had to talk to him right away, was there? Of course not. Maybe he was eating. Maybe his mom was giving him a tick bath. To interrupt would be rude. And Sam Puckett wasn't rude. Everybody said so.

_Well, not every..._

_Shut up._

She grabbed the handle to Carly's door, before realizing Freddie could be in there. Why wouldn't he be? Didn't they all spend more time there than they did practically anywhere else? But for her to worry about that would mean she was scared. And she wasn't.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

_2_

"Hey, Carls." Sam took a furtive look around. No Freddie. Of course, he could be up in the studio.

"Hey, Sam." Carly looked at her expectedly. Sam pretended not to notice.

"Got anything to eat?"

"Don't we always?"

"Excellent." Sam went to the fridge. There was ham in there. Ham always worked on calming her nerves.

"So, did you talk to to Freddie yet?" Carly just couldn't help it, could she?

"Nope, he upstairs?" Carly shook her head. Good, she could put it off a little longer. She brought the ham with her and sat down next to Carly. "What are we watching?"

Carly looked at her and grabbed the remote. She selected the DVR button and clicked on a program called "The History of Underwear."

"What are you doing, Carly?"

"I think this is a fascinating show, don't you?" She smirked at Sam. Sam turned to the TV and within two minutes had heard the word "panties" six times. She glared at Carly. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I've just been waiting to watch this. You know, if you want to go take a walk, maybe talk with somebody, I'm sure it will be over by the time you get back."

Sam stood up. She put the plate of ham on Carly's lap. Let her put it up. "You're going to pay for this, you know that, Shay?"

"No, I won't," Carly said.

Sam went out the door. "Yeah, I know."

_3_

She stood outside his door, not yet ready to knock. For all she knew, he could be standing on the other side with his eye at the peephole, looking at her like he used to do with Carly. He would do that, wouldn't he, the little creep?

She shook her head. _You're just looking for some excuse so you can punch him or give him a wedgie, so he'll forget this conversation, so he won't know how large a hold he has on your heart._ She rolled her eyes at herself. That sounded like something Carly would say.

She knocked on the door. Four or five seconds later, it opened. And Freddie's mother stood there.

"Oh, it's you." She waited.

"Is Freddie here?" Sam asked, in a voice much too soft to be her own. Mrs. Benson looked at her, surprised.

"I'll get him." She shut the door gently and then another fifteen seconds later Freddie came out, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey...nub." Freddie flinched at that, which confused Sam. She had called him that so many times she had started to think of it as a term of endearment, not that she had told him that.

"Uh...did you want to come in?"

"No, I don't think I want to have this conversation in there." Freddie nodded. He pointed to Carly's apartment, but Sam shook her head. He sighed.

"Where, then...Sam?"

She thought. _We might as well do this, since everything seems to happen there anyway._ "Fire escape." She was surprised again when he winced.

"Hold on a sec. I'm going to let my mom know what I'm doing." He went back inside.

"Okay, I guess," Sam said to the empty hallway.

_4_

Freddie pressed his eye to the peephole as he pressed the contact number on his phone. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

"Freddie?"

The girl in the hall did not move, did not speak, did not hold a phone.

"Melanie?"

"Yes, silly, you called me, didn't you?"

"This is really you, Melanie? We're not doing any weird switching again?"

"Of course not, Freddie. I'm at my boarding school. Why, is Sam there?"

"She's in the hall. She wants to talk. On the fire escape."

"Oh. Hold on." He heard some rustling, then some short breaths. A few moments later, she was back on. "Okay, Freddie, I'm sending you a picture of me in front of a sign at my school. I have a paper with today's date on it."

Freddie took the phone away from his ear and looked at the picture after he retrieved it. Okay, it was Melanie. Or Sam had flown all the way to her boarding school for an elaborate joke. It wasn't photoshopped, he could tell.

"Okay, Melanie. Thanks. Sorry for being so paranoid."

She laughed lightly. "No problem, Freddie. I understand. It is Sam." She paused. "Freddie? Good luck."

"Thanks, Melanie."

_5_

He came back into the hall. "Okay, let's go."

"Geez, Freddie, we're just gonna be like thirty feet away. Did she have you put an electronic lease on or something?"

"Oh, you know my mom."

They walked to the fire escape together, each taking secret glances at the other. Freddie gestured for her to go first, and then he followed. Part of him wondered if maybe Sam hadn't forgiven him for kissing her sister, and that maybe she planned on throwing him over. _You're being paranoid_, he thought. Sure, yeah, but last time he wasn't paranoid, and he had ended up kissing Melanie.

"So, Sam, what do you want to talk about?"

She was silent. He looked at her. He was glad he had called Melanie, because Sam was not acting like herself. She seemed shy and unsure of herself, which wasn't Sam. _Except when it comes to guys_, he thought. Then he caught himself. _Wait, am I guy? I mean, yeah, I'm a guy, but a guy to her? _He felt perspiration bead on his temple. He knew he loved her, and Melanie had insisted Sam felt the same, but the thought of that actually being a topic of conversation, especially after the disastrous incident with Melanie, made him nervous.

Sam looked down. "So you wrote the poem?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"About me?" She looked up.

"Yeah," he said, wincing when his voice cracked a little. She didn't seem to notice.

"You lied to me."

"What? I didn't lie to you, Sam."

"You didn't tell me you had written it before."

"You never asked, Sam. I told you I would tell Principal Franklin it was me."

"But you made it seem like you were just doing it as a favor to me, not because you had actually written it. Why would you do that?"

"Because I was scared, Sam," he said, his voice louder. He took a moment to lower it. "We're us, Sam. We've done this for so long. I didn't want to tell you how I felt and then have you..."

"Reject you?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Why do you think I would reject you?"

"Gee, I don't know, Sam," he said, laughing. "Maybe because you've made it your business to let me know in no uncertain terms that no women will ever love me."

"Oh." Sam looked down. She said something he didn't hear.

"What?"

"I said, I didn't want anybody else to...you know, love you. Because..."

"You did?"

She nodded. She wouldn't look at him. She looked off in the distance. A light breeze caught her hair and waved it behind her in tendrils. He took a step closer to her.

"So what are we going to do about this, Sam?"

"I don't know, Freddie. You did kiss my sister."

"I didn't know it was Melanie."

"Okay, but how can you lo...like me if you can't even tell who I am?"

He took a step back. "Sam, you sent her over to trick me. She was trying to act like you, not to mention that I couldn't pin down a particular 'Sam' behavior, because you're all over the place. Sometimes you're the same bullying Sam that made junior high such a pain. Sometimes you're this unbelievably sweet girl. And sometimes you're just this amazing and smart and beautiful girl. How was I to know?"

"You should have," she whispered. Her face was down, so he didn't see the blush blooming on her cheeks. He had called her smart. And beautiful.

"But I did figure it out, Sam," he said, and he regained the step he had lost. He took another step forward. Gently, and not without fear, he lifted her chin with his index finger.

Her eyes seemed to blaze at him with an unreadable emotion. "How, Freddie? How could you tell?"

If he had time to think, his thought would have been that Sam would never understand the bravery it took to do what he did. He brought his lips down to hers. He felt her gasp against him, and then her lips parted and molded against his. He put his hand on her cheek and pressed his lips lightly around her upper lip. He heard a soft moan come from her. He could feel his heart in his chest, in his shoulders, his fingers, his toes, his hair. It felt like it was beating outside him.

Finally, they pulled apart.

"That's how. That's how...I knew it wasn't you. Just now, I knew. I knew. That's Sam. You're Sam."

"You can't...you can't kiss me. Nobody kisses me without permission. I..."

"Oh." Freddie nodded. Then he bent down and kissed her again, a little harder. He felt her hands fall on his hips and stay. Then he felt her mouth move against his, trying to be the aggressor, and he let her.

She pulled away. "You can't. This isn't...us. We don't do this. If you try that again, I swear...I'll..." Her words died away.

He nodded. "It's okay. I wore the cup." Then he bent for a third time. Before he had a chance, her lips had already moved up to meet his. He felt her hands interlock around the back of his neck.

She felt him bend down. Her mind was confused, intoxicated with his lips on hers, and she gasped when she felt his arms circle around her thighs, and all of a sudden she was lifted, and now she was bending down into his kiss, while he was holding her. _When did Freddie get strong?_ she asked that annoying part of her mind.

_Shut up and kiss, you idiot_, it shot back.

_6_

"Bye, Gibby." Carly hung up the phone. She had gotten weary of waiting for Sam to come back. So she decided to pass the time by calling Gibby. That was the only reason she called him. And without her noticing, an hour had passed. Gibby said his mother wanted him to do something, so he had to go.

Without Gibby to distract her, her worries began to come back. What if Sam had hurt Freddie? What if she killed Freddie? That was silly, of course. Sam could be mean, but she would never kill Freddie. That didn't stop the thought from sticking, though. She had just decided she was going to check on them, risking accusations of snooping, when Sam came in. She looked slightly dazed. She sat on the couch next to Carly.

Carly looked at her for a minute, waiting. Sam didn't say anything.

"Sam?"

Nothing.

"Sam?" Carly said louder. Sam shook her head.

"Oh, hey, Carly, what's up?"

"What's up? You tell me."

"I think I'm gonna see if you have some bacon." Sam got up and headed toward the kitchen, but Carly followed her and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around.

"What happened with you and Freddie?"

"Freddie? Oh, uh, we...we, uh, kissed." Sam said this very quietly.

"You kissed?" Carly asked.

Sam nodded.

"Sam?" Sam looked at her. Carly looked like she was going to burst out of her skin. She gave Sam a questioning look. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Fine, no more than five seconds."

"Yay." Carly grabbed Sam by the hands and began jumping up and down. Sam joined her, although with less enthusiasm. After five seconds, Sam stopped and waved Carly away. Sam headed toward the fridge again, only to have Carly spin her around by the arm again. Carly was really lucky she was Sam's best friend. Sam looked at her, registered the look on Carly's face, and sighed.

"I'm not going to be able to eat, am I?"

"As soon as you tell me everything, I will make you anything you want. Plus, I will buy you a smoothie."

Sam thought about it. "Okay." Carly would be the person she would talk to about boys, anyway. The only difference was that this was Freddie.

Carly pulled her to the couch. "How long was the kiss?"

"Which one?" Carly perked up.

"How many times did you kiss?"

"Uh...I'm not sure. Ten? Twelve, maybe." Carly giggled girlishly, and Sam blushed.

"Twelve times? Wow. Who initiated the first one?"

"He did."

"Wow, way to go, Freddie."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. Okay, start from the beginning."

Sam rolled her eyes. She knew she was going to have to do this anyway. Actually, she didn't really mind, at least not with Carly.

"We were out on the fire escape..."

_7_

Spencer wasn't meaning to eavesdrop. It just sort of happened. Not that he normally sat right next to his door, but he just liked to try different parts of the room for acoustics.

_So Freddie and Sam are together_. Suddenly, his phone rang and a squeak escaped him. He quickly answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Freddie."

"Oh, hey, stud."

"Oh my gosh." Spencer chuckled. Once he stopped, Freddie spoke again. "I need your help again."

"What? I thought was going to be the only time. And if you're with Sam, then you don't need to do this."

"It's because I'm with Sam I need to do this. Come on, Spencer. I'm not forcing you; I'm asking you as a friend."

Spencer sighed. "Fine. I don't like this, though."

"It will be fine."

**A/N: Heh, I wrote yesterday that I thought Melanie had played her last role in this story, and of course she ends up in this chapter. I hadn't meant that to happen, but I wrote the "hey...nub" part and realized it paralleled Melanie's talk with Freddie, and I just kind of had to do it. **

**By the way, I don't know if any other writers have the same issue, but it was a little strange for me to have some distance between Sam and Mrs. Benson, considering I had them have a closer relationship in two of my other stories. I guess that will happen when you do different timelines.**

**Thank you for reviews from: sylvia.I, Geekquality, MissSeddie, UnderxGravity, Icarya, Moviepal, Penny Tee13, kiyokoseddie, PurpleJerk, fireman35, Julefor, SeddierFTW, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, and Divina Rose.**

**Sylvia: I'm sure Sam would have preferred to only be dealing with Freddie, but them's the breaks. As for Gibby and Carly, they do have a date coming up, but who knows where it will lead?**

**UnderxGravity: I have way too many aspects of my life that have theme songs for them. Although, as of now, not one of them is "You Light Up My Life."**

**Penny Tee13: Actually I picture Principal Franklin rocking some Barry White, but it seems he has a secret Debby Boone guilty pleasure.**

**PurpleJerk: It would be nice if it was Freddie, but, come on, we have to remember this is the same guy who thought a great prank was putting raisins in somebody's hat. What happened at the school seems a little outside his comfort zone, and I couldn't get away (nor should I) with making the characters that, well, out of character.**

**Julefor: Sorry, you know how I feel about Freddie abuse. I can't let that happen too often. He was still smart to wear it, though. **

**SeddierFTW: I got four comments about the cup. I didn't think people would really latch onto that (not the cup itself-never mind). It almost makes me feel bad that I didn't let Sam kick him. However, if anybody is in the mood for Sam kicking somebody in the crotch, please check out my story, "Nothing to Fear" (wow, what a strange way to advertise a story).**


	20. Chapter 20: Take a Picture

Chapter 20: Take a Picture; It'll Last Longer

**Disclaimer: Go read the disclaimers for chapters 1 through 19. They still apply here, plus they don't involve me trying to be funny at four in the morning.**

_Day 11 - School_

_1_

The first thing Sam did when she got to school was go to the library. She would never admit it, but she was actually pretty good with computers, although probably not as good as Freddie was. She also paid attention when he was on the computer, more often just as an excuse to harass him, but sometimes just because she found what he did interesting. And she liked looking at him. She had paid attention when he talked about the servers being connected to all the computers, so she took the time to have it set that all the computers in the school would play a recording of flatulent noises at the same time. She set it for ten minutes till eleven, so that it would also wake her from her nap before lunch started.

She also used it as an opportunity to steel herself for seeing Freddie. Last night, she had her head in the clouds about him, but today she was worried about all the changes. She remembered the kisses on the fire escape, and the three at the window as they attempted to say goodbye to each other, and the other three short ones in the hallway. And the last one when she stopped before opening Carly's door and threw herself against him, pressing him against the door, and making his mother exclaim inside the apartment, which was good, as it effectively ended what could have been hours of goodbye kisses.

But today she realized it was Freddie. It wasn't boys she had crushes on before, who, if she thought about it, she cared less about combined than she did about Freddie. It was sweet, nice, adorable Freddie. It was also Freddie, who she liked to tease, who she liked to see get riled up, who she liked playing the game with. But she didn't know if she could do that anymore, not while also having the girly-gushy feelings she did. So, yeah, she was kind of putting off seeing him.

She saw a boy walk by her with blue marks all over his face. She wasn't surprised. She had seen Rodney, who was selling tickets to a freshman at the time, had bottles of food coloring in his locker. He hadn't claimed credit for the prank, and likely wouldn't until Monday, the same with the clown and the principal singing on the intercom. She laughed as she saw a girl bend over the water fountain and get her shirt soaked with red liquid. Sam was glad she had bottled water.

She laughed as she saw Mr. Howard storm by with three different colors on his face. She didn't even know how or why that had happened.

And then she came face to face with the boy she had been avoiding, who she had been thinking about, and who she could barely resist kissing as soon as she saw him.

"Hey," Freddie said, and she didn't know whether to be happy or sad that she saw some of the same hesitancy in his face. "How you doing, Sam?"

"Pretty good. How bout yourself?" _See, I'm acting different. This is all wrong._

"Good, good. So..." Then the bell rang. He smiled slightly at her, and she returned it, before turning to go to his class. She found Carly looking at her.

"You two are idiots," Carly said.

_2_

"Something's wrong with my desk," Gibby said. Freddie turned to look at him. He raised his shoulders and shook his head, indicating he didn't know what Gibby was talking about. Gibby held up his finger, and then put his pencil on his desk. Freddie watched as the pencil rapidly rolled along the side of the desk and then fell on the floor.

"That's weird, Gibby," Freddie said. Then he saw several other students doing the same thing, with the same result. Freddie tried it on is desk. Every desk in the class had its top elevated, so that it was set to a slight angle.

The teacher, after checking a few desks, got frustrated and told them to just deal with it. She set her books on her desk...where they promptly slid across and shot on to the floor. She ran her finger along her desk and looked at the filmy substance at the end of her finger. She sent one of the students off for cloths.

"So you and Sam are together?" Gibby asked.

"What? Where did you hear that?"

"Carly told me on the phone this morning."

Freddie frowned, for several reasons. The thought of Gibby and Carly having phone conversations in the morning was, well, weird. Plus, he was having enough troubles with his relationship with Sam, without having the whole school knowing about it. Yesterday, he would not have believed that kissing would be the easiest part of being with Sam.

"Gibby," he whispered. "You can't tell anybody about this."

"No problem, man," Gibby said. "Mum's the word." Freddie nodded his thanks, and turned to his school book as the teacher started to talk. He leaned slightly to the right, to make up for the desk's lean. He heard Gibby giggle. He looked at him. "Mum. That's a funny word."

_3_

Freddie walked past the photo lab. At the time, he was supposed to be in computer lab, but he had already completed all the semester's assignment, and the teacher was glad not to have Freddie around, since Freddie always made him feel stupid, and he never marked Freddie absent when he skipped, something he had done every day this week.

He heard a noise, and turned to see Sam standing at the door of the photo lab. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in. The photo lab was generally kept dark, but there was a little light, enough that he could see Sam and her brilliant eyes looking at him.

"Sam, I..."

"Shut up." And she initiated the kiss this time.

_4_

He didn't put up much of a fight. It was hard to resist Puckett kisses. Eventually, though, his brain reminded him they had issues to discuss, and he reluctantly pulled back after a few minutes.

"Sam, we need to talk."

"Dumping me already, Benson?"

"What, no! Seriously, Sam...well, that's the thing. I mean, how can I dump you? Are we together? We never really...talked last night. Just kissed."

"What's wrong with kissing?" she asked, and played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Nothing. Seriously, nothing. But, I mean, is that all it is? Is that all we are? We love each other, Sam." She started at that. "Yet we can't even talk?"

"What's to talk about? You're Freddie. I'm Sam. And now we're not. We're different. We'll never be the same."

"Okay, sure, but that's not a bad thing, necessarily."

"But it could be. I don't want to end up calling you a nub or saying something about your mother being crazy...or thump you in the head, and then you'll get mad and dump me, just like every other guy." Despite the darkness, Freddie saw tears form.

"Sam, I'm not every other guy."

"I...I...I'm going." And she was out the door before he could reply. This was not how he had expected this to go.

_5_

Lunch was silent. Carly felt uncomfortable, looking at her two best friends. Sam stared at her plate, not eating, not even the key lime pie, which, while no Galini's, was still pretty good for school fare.

They didn't appreciate the will power she was showing by not interfering. She saw Freddie peek at Sam several times, and she willed him to say something, although making the first move didn't seem in Freddie's nature. Or so she had thought. She didn't think Freddie would be the one to initiate a kiss with Sam, either. Suddenly, Freddie smirked.

"Hey, Puckett," he said.

"What?" She looked up. And was rewarded with Freddie's piece of pie in her face. Carly's mouth fell open. Freddie's smirk grew. Sam wiped the topping from around her eyes and stared at him.

"You're dead, Benson," she said.

"Am I?" He grinned. And before Carly could think, he was off and running. Sam was right behind him.

And it sounded to Carly like she was laughing.

_6_

"Ow, Sam, my underwear's gonna rip off. Wasn't one wedgie enough?"

"Not since you put a pie in my face." The voices sounded like the abused and abuser, but looking at the two, that picture didn't quite match up, not with the blond girl on top of the boy. Much of the pie topping that had been on her face was now on his, particularly around the mouth area. Plus, despite the possibility of the girl ripping his underwear, the boy was grinning.

"You forgive me."

"I'll think about it."

"No, you've forgiven me already, because you love me." She tensed up, and he moved her hands easily, so that now he was holding her in place as she sat above him. "And I love you, too."

They were in the photo lab again. Sam had tackled him in the hallway and dragged him in there.

She looked at him and nodded. She lowered herself until her head was resting on his chest.

"So what now?" she asked.

"So. I'm Freddie. You're Sam. And that's who we are. And if you call me names or torture me, then you'll just have to give me more kisses later to make up for it." He tapped her back lightly, and she got off. He moved until he was sitting cross-legged across from her, and she copied his motion. He held her hands in his. "I fell in love with you before this, Sam, and you were doing all that stuff."

"So you're a sucker for punishment."

"No, I just know that's not all there is to you." She blushed, thankful for the darkness of the room.

"Would you like to go on a date, Sam?"

"What?"

"You and me. On a date. Tomorrow night after _iCarly_. What do you say?"

She thought about it. "I'm not going on some girly date with you, Benson."

"No girly date. Got it. I'll try to control myself."

She laughed and put her palm on his face, rubbing the pie filling around on it, then left.

_7_

Carly wasn't sure what happened with the two of them, but the next time she saw Sam, Sam was all smiles, which was actually not that great for some people, because she resumed her pranking with a vigor.

"Hey, Carly," she greeted, laughing, as she passed Carly in the hall at one point. Behind Sam, one of the football players was on the floor, writing around. Another player laughed at him, before stopping, suddenly scratching at his...well, Carly turned once she saw. She looked at Sam.

"Scratching powder. I know the equipment manager." Carly winced.

When she saw first saw Freddie, he was limping into the boy's bathroom. He came out a few minutes later, walking unhindered, and grinning like a loon.

"Hey, Carly, what's up?" He hugged Carly, which was weird. Sure, when he had a crush on her, he would take any opportunity to sneak a hug here or there, but ever since Shelby Marx, when she and Sam had convinced him he had passed a line of creepiness, he didn't really mess around with any public displays of affection.

"So I take it you and Sam are okay now?" Carly asked.

He smiled. "I guess you could say so."

"Are you going to look like this the entire time you're with her, Freddie, because you look kind of goofy." She smiled to let him know she was kidding, although he did look sort of silly, in a sweet kind of way.

"Oh, look, there's your boyfriend," he said, pointing down the hallway, where Gibby was, slowly walking and greeting everybody he saw. He even greeted the football players on the floor (there were four of them now) without pause.

"He's not my boyfriend," Carly whispered.

"He's not?" Freddie actually looked surprised at that. "I think the two of you would be good together."

"Freddie!" Gibby was getting closer, and she didn't want him to hear her and Freddie talking about this.

"You would. He's loads better than the losers you usually date," Freddie said. Carly, who had been watching Gibby's progress, turned to look at Freddie, who stroked his chin in a musing manner. "Well, except that one kid. I think he saved you from a taco truck. But he was probably too good for you. Besides, I hear he's found somebody better." He started moving past her and turned and gave her a wink. _Great_, she thought, unaware she and Principal Franklin shared a common concern, _Sam's rubbing off on him_.

"Hey, Gibster," Freddie said. He shared a fist bump with Gibby and gave him a clap on the shoulder. Gibby nodded at him and turned to Carly.

"Hey, Carly, you look pretty today," Gibby said. Carly paused for a moment, thinking he had gone back on his flirting kick, before realizing he was just being...sweet. Maybe Freddie was right, in his annoying way.

"Hey, Gibby, nice shirt."

"Cool, thanks." He turned and looked down the hallway. "Wow, football practice must have been rough today."

**A/N: Somebody mentioned the poem and how they thought that might be more of a focus of the story. While I did intend it to originally be more of a mystery longer through the story, I never intended it to be one of the main plot points of the story. It was just another piece of the puzzle of Sam and Freddie. This story is still going to last 4 and a half more days (seven chapters), with some other twists and turns, and at least two dates (maybe not with the same people). **

**Thanks for reviews from: iCarlyfan101, UnderxGravity, Fantabulous64, Julefor, QueenV101, Moviepal, MissSeddie, Divina Rose, Geekquality, Penny Tee13, clarksonfan, WahooPunchPurple, fireman35, kiyokoseddie, PurpleJerk, Tbayleyt, SeddierFTW, and Icarlya.**

**UnderxGravity: I touched a little on the poem thing. It may come up again (and when I say that, I really mean I'm not sure one way or another).**

**Julefor: Yeah, Spencer is the king of pranks, but unfortunately he has that whole "way too addicted to it" thing, and that would go against the canon of the show for me. It's a nice idea, though. Spencer could really tear up some pranks at the school-probably be the one doing the senior prank, even though he doesn't go to school there.**

**WahooPunchPurple: I guess it would sort of depend on the duration of each kiss. As I wrote, some of the were "goodbye" kisses. As somebody pointed out, there was a lot of pent-up passion that needed to be released. The people who pulled the pranks will be revealed in the next Monday chapter (six chapters away). All I can say is that both Rodney and Sam have been keeping some pranks in their back pockets, to spring them at the last minute. And I really hate to ruin it for people, but seriously, folks, Freddie's my favorite character, but raisins in hats is probably the most elaborate prank he could come up with. His intelligence lies in other areas.**

**PurpleJerk: All will be revealed in the end. Unless I forget something, in which case that gives people something to complain about! So everybody wins.**


	21. Chapter 21: Am I Good Enough?

Chapter 21: Am I Good Enough?

**Disclaimer: Dan's not here, man. He took **_**iCarly **_**somewhere else, I swear. I've been here all night. I have an alibi!**

_Day 11 - Night_

_1_

"No."

"Come on, Sam, it will be fun."

"No way, Carls. It's bad enough I'm going on a date with Freddork. There's no way I'm going on a double-date with you and the mermaid."

Carly pouted, but Sam remained steadfast. Carly had two reasons for making the request. One, she wanted to make sure Freddie and Sam didn't end up killing each other. They loved each other, that was obvious. But they also had an amazing capacity for ticking each other off, and she hoped to act as a buffer between the two. And, two, she was nervous about being alone with Gibby. She wasn't sure why; she had never been nervous about dates before. For all of her supposed prissiness, when it came to dating, Carly was almost never nervous.

"What are you going to wear?" she asked Sam.

"I don't know. Something like this." She waved her arms over what she was wearing, which consisted of of jeans and a sweater. Carly frowned.

"Sam, don't you think you should dress a little nicer? Don't you want Freddie to be overwhelmed by how beautiful you are."

Sam grabbed a piece of bacon and threw it in her mouth. She had spent over an hour after school tutoring with Reuben, and she needed something to get his nonsense out of her head. "His lips were all over me earlier. It seems he thinks I look good enough." Her words were matter-of-fact, but Carly saw a blush appear on Sam's cheeks. Sam was thinking of Freddie saying she was smart and beautiful.

"Sam..."

"Carly." Carly stopped. "This isn't going to work if Freddie can't accept me as I am. Or I can't accept him as he is...well, he'll have to change some, that goes without question. But I've done the pretending to be not me, and I don't want to be with somebody if he can't like me for me."

Carly wasn't used to Sam being open with her feelings so easily. She nodded. "Okay. Sorry."

"Not a problem, although you could make it up to me with some more bacon." She waved the empty plate at Carly.

_2_

Freddie opened his door to see Gibby. "What's up, Gibs?"

"I just brought this to give to you." He handed the object in his hand to Freddie.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." He paused, waiting, but Gibby just stood there. "Did you need anything else, Gibby?"

"I, uh, I..." To Freddie, Gibby looked completely lost.

"Would you like to come in and talk, Gibby?" Freddie said and held the door open.

Gibby visibly exhaled. "Thanks, man."

_3_

"What are you working on, Sam?" For a moment, Carly hoped that Sam had rededicated herself to her academic pursuits. Like Freddie, she also knew Sam was much smarter than she acted. Carly had tried to bring up college to Sam several times, with the possibility of the two of them being roommates, but Sam checked out whenever she did. Carly had voiced her frustrations to Freddie one day about it, and he had told her that Sam felt she didn't deserve to go to college, that she wasn't good enough. Carly had mocked him for that, but later she had thought about it and felt one of the reasons she had done so was because she was upset he knew more about her best friend than she did.

"Pranks. Tomorrow's the last day I can do them, so I have to really bust it to beat Rodney."

"Sam, seriously, don't you have anything better you could be doing?" Sam stared at Carly as if she had turned into a unicorn. "Sorry, but if you just did school work like you worked on these..."

"I am doing the school work, Carls. I'm tutoring with Boggle Boy, and my grades are better. I just need to do this."

"Why, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Because I like the thought of being best at something, okay? I'm not good at school like Freddie is, or you are. I'm not as popular as you. But if I win this, I can make this prank something people will remember for years."

"Sam, you are smart. You can go to college."

"Don't start on this, Carly. If I went to college, I would just be a burden on you."

"Well, maybe I can't stand the thought of being at college without my best friend. And maybe I'm tired of my best friend doubting herself." Sam groaned.

They didn't talk for several minutes. Then Sam said something, but Carly didn't hear her. "What?"

"I said, I applied. I got into WSU. Which means they have to be a sucky college, and you really shouldn't go there."

"Sam!" Carly hugged her.

_4_

"What's the matter, Gibby?" Freddie asked. Gibby sat on the couch, while Freddie sat in the recliner. Mrs. Benson was working the late shift at the hospital, and Freddie had finished his school work a little before Gibby had knocked on the door. He had almost skipped it, wanting instead to go over to Carly's, so that he could spend time with Sam. But he knew if he did that, Sam would be upset. For all of her joking about his nerdiness and his intelligence, he had noticed that she really appreciated his dedication to his school work. He just didn't know why she didn't apply that same concern to herself.

"I have a date with Carly tomorrow." Gibby looked miserable. Freddie didn't understand that. He knew Gibby, as well as a lot of other guys at Ridgeway, had a crush on Carly. Freddie had himself at one point.

"I know, Gibby. Isn't that a good thing?"

"I guess. But I'm worried that she won't, you know, like me. "Cause I'm Gibby." Freddie laughed.

"Gibby, you've always been Gibby. Gibby." Freddie laughed again, and then shook his head at Gibby staring at him. "Sorry. Seriously, thought, you're Gibby, yeah, but Carly knows that, and she still likes you."

"You don't think she's too good for me?" Gibby asked.

"Sure, I do." Gibby hung his head. Freddie laughed again, and then stood up, clapping Gibby on the shoulder. "Gibby, she's too good for you. But she's too good for anybody else at the school, and if she's going to be with someone she's too good for, it should be you."

Gibby thought about this, and then smiled. "Thanks, man." His smiled died away again. "Are you sure you don't still like her?"

"I do like her, Gibby, but just like she's my best friend. She and I tried it, and it didn't work out. I thought at first it was because of all that saving her life stuff, but, you know, after I got out of the cast and everything, I realized that I just didn't like her the way I thought I liked her."

"Okay. So, what do you think I should do on this date tomorrow? I don't want her to be freaked out."

"Gibby, just be yourself."

"Freddie, are you sure that's really wise?"

"Gibby, you can't spend your life pretending to be something that's not you. If it turns out that Carly doesn't like that Gibby, isn't it better to find out now? But trust me, she likes you, okay?"

"Okay, thanks again."

_5_

"Stop, Sam!"

Sam was on the floor, having fallen off the couch from laughing. Carly had asked Sam if she wanted Carly to help with the pranks.

"I'm sorry. It's just I can't think of anybody worse to help with a prank."

"What about Freddie? Freddie thinks raisins in a hat is a good prank." Carly actually thought it was a good prank, too, but she knew Sam didn't.

"Freddie's a good foot soldier, though. He's great at lookout. As long as he leaves the heavy thinking to me, we're a great team." Sam stopped, thinking about that-talking about Freddie and her as a team.

"Wow, you really are in love, aren't you?" Carly asked.

"Shut up." Carly smiled at her. "Hey, Carly, do you think Spencer could help..."

"No, he is not pranking. Don't you remember how horrible it was last time? He was out of control. I'm not going through that again."

"Fine, but if I lose this, I'm going to get you, Shay."

"I'll just have Freddie throw his lips in front of me. That will stop you."

Sam threw a pillow at her.

_6_

Freddie was trying to decide whether to call Sam or not. He knew she was at Carly's, but he didn't know if it was all right if he called. If he did, she might feel he was being too possessive or something. It was difficult enough being somebody's boyfriend, not that he had that much experience, but it was doubly so being Sam Puckett's boyfriend.

In the middle of taking a drink of Peppy Cola, he nearly choked. _I'm Sam Puckett's boyfriend_. It was still going to take a while to get used to that. It was like being on a roller coaster, both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

He took out his phone, deciding to call Sam, when there was a knock on the door. He opened the door, and she was there.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said, shyly. He didn't like that. He didn't like the thought of Sam Puckett being shy. That wasn't the girl he fell in love with. He was feeling dangerous tonight, so he reached out and thumped her on the head, as she had him thousands of times.

"What the hey, Fredward?" And before he knew it, she was behind him and had his arm twisted behind his back.

"That's my girl," he said. She gave him a small push on his arm, making him wince, and then let go.

"What did you do that for?"

"I'm tired of us starting anew every time we see each other, Sam. You're not some shy schoolgirl. You're Sam Puckett. Act like it." His voice was steady, but inside he felt nervous. She stepped closer to him, so that their faces were only inches apart.

"You don't want me to be girlier?"

"Nope."

"Don't want me to be more like Carly?"

"Nope."

She nodded. "Fine." And she kissed him.

Two minutes later, she pulled back and said, "hey, is your mom home?"

He laughed. Only Sam could come to the door shyly and then make out with him, before asking if his mom was home. "No, she's working."

"Oh."

He took her by the hand. He lay down on the couch, and gestured for her to lie next to him.

"What's up, Sam?"

She turned slightly and rested her head on his chest. "Do you think I could go to college, Freddie?"

"Of course."

She looked at him. "Of course? What do you mean, of course? Have you seen my grades?"

"You know I have. But I also know that WSU isn't Harvard. And Principal Franklin sent them a recommendation."

"He what?"

_Oh, man. I wasn't supposed to say that_, Freddie thought. "Yeah, he told me about it when we were discussing your tutoring."

"Oh." She lowered her head again. "What if I can't handle it, Freddie?"

He laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Just the thought of you not being able to handle anything. Sam, I know if you really tried, you could give me a run for my money for valedictorian."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'd still whip your butt. You would make it close, though." She smacked his cheek lightly.

"Thanks, Freddie."

Ten minutes later, she was asleep on his chest. He stayed awake for another hour, before maneuvering her so that he could lift her. He preferred not to, but he didn't really want to explain to his mom what was going on. That is if he even had a chance before she died of a heart attack.

He lightly rapped on the Shay door with his forehead. Spencer opened the door and looked at the sleeping girl in Freddie's arms.

"She fell asleep," Freddie said, shrugging his shoulders. This caused Sam's head to fall back, and a snort came from her throat. Freddie and Spencer laughed quietly, and Spencer opened the door wider.

Freddie put Sam on the couch, propping a pillow under her head. He turned to Spencer, who was holding a blanket out to him. He put it on top of Sam and kissed her on her forehead.

"Could you do that again, Freddie? I want to take a picture."

"Shut up, Spencer." He started to leave. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah, but this is it, right?" Spencer looked frightened, probably thinking of what Sam might to him if things went wrong.

"This is it. And don't worry, Spence. Live a little." He left.

_That sounded a little too much like Sam to me_, Spencer thought. He looked at the blonde girl, who was smiling in her sleep.

He shook his head and went to his room.

**A/N: This was a little filler-y, but I can't just write chapter after chapter of them kissing, right? Right? Hello, is this thing on? **

**Don't worry, the next two chapters cover the last day of pranks and the dates, so things should be pretty interesting.**

**Thanks for reviews from: Julefor, UnderxGravity, Moviepal, kiyokoseddie, sangergirl123, PurpleJerkWarrior, Geekquality, Penny Tee13, cynthiarox99, SeddierFTW, and clarksonfan.**

**Julefor: Pranks are going to be the name of the game tomorrow. **

**UnderxGravity: Skating? I don't skate. No skating here. *Whiiiish* And I've already covered (in other stories) the weirdness, so I thought it would be nice to have them actually being together not be that strange for them (not that there won't still be issues). This is Sam and Freddie we're talking about.**

**kiyokoseddie: I hope this chapter covered what I've been saying. Freddie. Is. Not. Good. At. Pranks. **

**rangergirl123: Sam gave him a wedgie for smashing the pie in his face. He went into the restroom to extract and rearrange, therefore no more limping. **

**PurpleJerkWarrior: I don't remember reading that anywhere before, although I might have and forgot. I'll just go with "brilliant minds think alike."**

**SeddierFTW: True, but she wouldn't be the first person who didn't realize they were practically in a relationship without knowing it (actually, if you squint your eyes tightly enough, you could point out several Sam and Freddie scenes from the show that would suggest it for them, also).**

**clarksonfan: Hey, this is a K+ story. Cut it out with all the rubbing.**

_**Note: the following includes a few things I just wanted to get off my chest that have nothing to do with this story. If you agree with me, I appreciate it. If not, please just ignore my mad ramblings.**_

_**I write because I love to write. I have been using fanfiction as a way to get back into writing (sort of with a safety net of not using my own characters), and I will probably start writing my own stuff soon. I appreciate anybody who has left a review, whether it be complimentary or critical. I will never, however, write that I have to have so many reviews before I post another chapter (after all, those of you who have read all my stories realize by now that I'm a bit of a chapter whore, and that even when I say I might not get the next chapter out for a week, I will likely put out the next day). I'm sorry for criticizing those of you who do this, but I can't stand the "no chapter if I don't get enough reviews". I just saw that on somebody who had almost 300 reviews already. That's on one story. I only have about 1 and a half times that for all my stories. So write because you love to write and appreciate the reviews you get.**_

_**Oh, also, please review, everybody!**_

_**Second, I know Sam is generally the favorite character of most people, but if I read another story where Sam constantly harasses and hits Freddie, and then Freddie says something harsh, causing not only Sam, but Carly and Spencer (and sometimes his mother) to turn against him, I'm going to rip my hair out. I hate that. And the last story I read this in really bothered me, because up until then it was actually a great story (actually, series of oneshots). **_

_**And this one is just more me being a little puzzled: what's with the Alternate Universe stories? I guess I just don't understand the purpose of using these characters if they're not actually related in some way. I understand expanding on the characters (obviously, I have done this myself), but completely changing them, I don't get that. Okay, I'm done. I have just read some stories that made me cranky.**_


	22. Chapter 22: Those Who Prank, We Salute

Chapter 22: Those Who Prank, We Salute You

**Disclaimer: Ha, I totally superglued Dan to the set of **_**iCarly**_**. That's what he gets for owning it.**

_Day 12 - The Great Prankocalypse_

_1_

Carly Shay woke up to find Sam gone. Spencer had told Carly Sam was on the couch, but when she checked there was only a blanket tossed casually to the side. Sam never woke up early. Never. Never ever. Dread began to well up inside Carly. _This can't be good. It really, really can't. _Sam had talked about the pranks she wanted to pull, and part of Carly had hoped (foolishly, she knew) that Sam wouldn't follow through.

Carly went into the kitchen to get something to drink, and she saw Spencer sitting at the table, his eyes distant.

"You okay, Spence?"

"She wouldn't stop talking about them, Carly. Do you think maybe I should just go to the school to check on..."

"No! You are to stay miles away from the school. The last thing I need is for you to fall back on your pranking ways. I'm still having flashbacks."

Spencer nodded, defeated. "I guess I'll go to bed now."

"You haven't been to bed yet?"

"Been thinking about the pranks." He stumbled toward his bedroom. Carly decided she needed to talk to Sam about the conversations she had with Spencer; she didn't need for him to get riled up. She wouldn't do it today, though. Sam would pay attention to nothing she said on this day, Carly knew.

Thirty minutes later there was a knock on her door. Freddie Benson stepped inside. He looked rather haggard himself.

"You okay, Freddie?"

"I'm just worried about Sam. I hope she doesn't push things too far today."

"I'm sure she'll be okay," Carly said, although she had her doubts.

"You ready to go?" he asked. He didn't seem surprised that Sam wasn't there.

_2_

Ted Franklin knew a lot about what went on at his school. He had known about the prank contest through some sources in the Detention Posse. However, he had not been able to nail down any information recently. After the Steve Phillips incident, information from members of the Detention Posse had dried up. Also, most of them, as well as most of the school, were afraid of crossing Sam Puckett. Nobody had told him that, but he had known her long enough to know the truth. He found this somewhat humorous, as he thought of Sam as sensitive, although he supposed if he had admitted that to her, she might show him the side the other students were afraid of. He had also heard that within the last few days she had become the girlfriend of Freddie Benson, probably the most mild-mannered boy Ted had seen in many years. He had long ago learned not to worry about high school romances. They were often short and tawdry and silly, plus he didn't like to think of them, as his own girls were getting close to high school age. But he always had a special place in his heart for Sam Puckett, and he was pleased that she had found the one boy who could, perhaps, handle being with her mercurial nature.

Thoughts of Sam Puckett's romantic bliss were the last thing on his mind as he pulled into the school's parking lot, though. He stepped out and looked at one of the signs on the grass. One of the...at least one hundred signs. It was a For Sale sign. He pulled it out of the ground. His cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Yes, I saw your sign. Is the school really for sale?" Ted looked at the sign. Yes, that was his phone number on the sign. He sighed. It was today. He quickly got off the phone with the potential buyer. He called his wife and let her know that if she needed to contact him, to call his office phone directly. Then he turned his cell phone off. As he walked, he noticed other signs had different numbers, one he recognized as Mr. Howard's. He would have Rachel warn the staff once he got to his office. And have the custodial staff remove the signs. He better have Rachel order coffee and donuts for them. They were going to be in for a busy day.

At the door to the school he turned around to see the field of signs. He sighed. It was going to be a long, long day. He always came to school feeling prepared for the battle that was high school. Days like this, though...

He shook his head and entered the war zone.

_3_

In high school communication, teachers and administrators are often the last to know, like parents who still think little Johnny or Janey is as sweet as pie and probably still has all their GI Joes or Barbies. At the student level, though, it is more realistic. Unlike Ted, they all knew that today was the day. Many of them found some reason to be absent from school that day. Some skipped without any thought of the consequences. Others pretended to be sick. Still others actually found ways to make themselves sick. Trips to the dentist or doctor that had been dreaded were agreed to willingly on this day. When the attendance was tabulated, it was discovered that a quarter of the high school was missing that day, including a few teachers that some students had deemed "almost cool".

Every student that entered the school that day, except for the few who were part of no social circle and thus did not know what awaited, steeled themselves. They, as Ted had, prepared to enter the war zone.

Some of them, the more adventurous, the ones who usually showed up after the tardy bell, were there soon enough to see several classrooms that had all their desks positioned perfectly in the hallway. The custodial staff was still moving desks into rooms by the time the remaining students got there. Principal Franklin was on the phone through the first hour or so, begging for additional custodial assistance from other schools. He knew there was no way to stop the devastation, short of shutting down the school, which he would not do, but he hoped to centralize the impact.

_4_

Sam was in such a hurry that she didn't even think about being in public when she gave her boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek.

"The desks?" Freddie asked.

"Uncle Carmine," she said, and grinned.

"For Sale signs?"

"Rodney," she said. She had already seen proof of that. "I gotta go."

"Wait. I know you're gonna be busy, so I packed you some stuff." He gave her a lunch bag. She looked in to see Fat Cakes and beef jerky and other assorted snacks.

"Thank you," she said, giving him another kiss. "But I can't carry this."

He stepped behind her and unzipped her backpack. "Hand the stuff to me, and I'll put it back here. Whoa," he said, looking in. "Be careful, Sam." She grinned and handed him the food one by one.

He came back around. "Good luck, Sam." She smiled and handed him the empty lunch bag.

"Gotta go." And she was gone. Freddie grinned.

_5_

Miss Briggs was the first casualty of the day. She wasn't hurt so much as she was buttery. She had opened the door to her room. She had seen the other rooms with the desks arranged outside them, and of course the For Sale signs. But she was, perhaps more than any other teacher at the school, feared. She saw there were no desks outside her room, and she smiled. Feared.

She opened her door. And was pushed back by wave upon wave of popcorn. Buttered popcorn. The greasiness of it was on her dress, in her hair. Francine Briggs had been Redenbachered.

"Cool, popcorn." Gibby walked by and grabbed some from the top of the pile. It was a little stale, but still pretty tasty.

Sam heard about the popcorn as she was setting up another prank. She grimaced. That one was good, and it hurt. Because it wasn't her prank. She still had other tricks up her sleeve, though. And in her pockets. And in her backpack.

_6_

Upstair classes were delayed because of the cups on the stairs. The problem was that the cups were filled with water and were so close together that nobody could go up the stairs without knocking some over. Plus, most of the cups were superglued to each other, so that simply removing one at a time was impossible. A team of the custodial staff, mostly those who had been rushed over from other schools, worked to pour each row of cups into a larger bucket.

Even with the help of Uncle Carmine's "friends", that had been the most difficult prank for Sam.

It took the staff longer than they thought it would to empty the bucket when it filled, because they at first were planning to dump it in a toilet. However, when they went into the bathroom, each stall was occupied. They tried another bathroom and encountered the same thing. Finally, frustrated, one of the staff knocked on one of the stalls. No answer. Hoping he didn't get called a pervert, one of them knelt down and looked under one of the stalls.

"What the..."

Then he was climbing over the stall and opened it from the inside. The other staff members saw that the legs they had seen under the stall door were not attached to a boy, but were instead just a pair of shoes and jeans stapled to what looked like a fairly flimsy table.

_7_

They had finally removed all the cups. They were at the bottom of the steps with the bucket when they heard a whistle from above. When they looked up, objects began bouncing down the stairs. Rubber balls. Thousands of them. Of all sizes.

One of the men grabbed another who had been about to move. "Don't!" If they tried to move while the balls were still moving like that, one or many of them would likely step on a ball and have their feet fly out from under them.

"I don't know if I can handle this, Jim."

It took a while for the balls to slow enough that they could go upstairs without being concerned about falling. By the time they got up, the culprits were gone.

_8_

Sam didn't like to admit it, but this was almost too hard to handle or comprehend. She remembered seeing a cartoon of Mickey Mouse trying to cast a spell and having it become too overwhelming for him. She felt like that. Somebody had run by her and thrust a box into her arms. Before she could turn, they were gone. She looked down and saw a few rubber balls in the box. Rodney was trying to set her up, she figured, and she got rid of the box quickly. It didn't matter that she didn't do that prank. If somebody saw her with the box, they would assume it was her. Which, in most circumstances, wouldn't be that bad an assumption.

She watched as several students struggled with their lockers. She grinned, as she knew just who had superglued them shut. Then she frowned when she saw the same thing happening on the other side of the hall. She hadn't superglued those. It seemed she and Rodney's crew had the same idea.

Suddenly she heard giggles and screams. She turned to see a boy running toward her. A naked boy. She couldn't tell who it was because of the bag on his head. She knew it wasn't Rodney, because Rodney was taller than that. And scrawnier.

Before she could fully comprehend, the boy had gone around the corner, maneuvering around a janitor who tried to grab him.

"Maybe it's one of the football players," she heard one of the girls behind her say.

Sam ran around the corner and looked, but the boy was gone. Well, let Rodney have that one. She certainly wasn't going to streak.

_9_

She shared some of her Fat Cakes with Carly. Carly wasn't as big of fan of them as Sam was, but when Sam mentioned that something could have been done to the lunch food, Carly gave in.

"How are you doing, Sam?"

"Hanging in there," Sam said. She looked exhausted, but she also looked thrilled, showing a smile Carly didn't usually see from her. "Rodney seems to be matching me prank for prank, though. Say, you wouldn't want to do some streaking for me, would you?"

"No!" Carly blushed. She had heard about the streaker, but had not seen him. All the girls were talking about it. The majority of them had concluded it was Dwayne Grangen, a junior running back. He denied it and finally ran to the safety of the locker room, away from all the prying eyes of high school girls.

"Where's Freddie?" Carly asked.

"I told him same as you, it's probably not safe in here."

Carly looked to see what time it was, and saw that all the clocks on the walls had different times. She sighed and pulled out her cell phone to see what time it showed.

"Don't worry, Carls. We're halfway there."

Carly watched as one girl walked by with her hands covered in blue dust. She was followed by one who had orange dust on her face and hair.

"Air blowers in the bathroom," Sam said. "By the way, don't use them. If you need to, go to the girls' bathroom next to the principal's office." Carly nodded. She wanted this day to be over. She wanted to go home, actually, and would have, except she wanted to be there to support Sam if things went wrong.

Sam got up and went to the vending machine. Carly chewed on her Fat Cake. She really needed to eat something better once she got home. She looked up as Sam sat down.

"Sam, what happened?" Sam had a Peppy Cola and was drinking from it, but there was a brown, gloopy substance on the can and on Sam's hand.

Sam licked some off her hand. "Somebody put chocolate pudding in the vending machine slot. That one was pretty good. Got to give it to them." She didn't seem to be bothered by the pudding.

_10_

After lunch the band sat down for practice, but the first note they played was a little off, as the whoopee cushion on each seat released as they sat. Once the cushions had been removed, the few who had been unwise enough to leave their instruments unattended had to remove objects from tubas and trombones and flutes.

The coach of the football team stared as his team came out for practice. Each and every one of them was wearing a uniform that was too small for him. The coach began to yell at the equipment manager, who insisted it wasn't him. He had washed the uniforms the day before once practice ended, and they had all been fine.

"Shut up!" the coach yelled at a group of girls on the side of the field. They were looking at Dwayne Grangen and admiring his clearly visible abs.

Many of the teachers thought most of the pranks had already been set up, so they didn't pay much attention when they picked up their teacher's editions of their books, only to discover they were student editions. Some of them handled this with aplomb, knowing they didn't need the answers at the back of the book. Others failed miserably. Through the grapevine, Principal Franklin would hear of some of them and would have them in his office the following Monday.

_11_

"Sam, you're in class!" Freddie looked surprise.

"Yeah, I needed a short break."

"You needed a break, so you decided to come to class?" Sam smiled at him. _I love her_, he thought. He couldn't resist that smile, or that twinkle in her eye.

"Shut up," Mr. Howard said. He wasn't singling out Sam or Freddie. The entire class was buzzing with talk.

"You shut up, Baldy."

"Who said that?" Mr. Howard walked up the line of desks, trying to stare each student down.

"Somebody smarter than you. So it could be anybody." Sam and Freddie looked around. Nobody near them seemed to have said anything. And it didn't really sound like it came from...

"Boo!" Mr. Howard jumped. Freddie looked up and pointed to the ceiling. One of the tiles was slightly askew.

Mr. Howard looked up. Then he looked right at Sam. "This is you."

Sam was about to protest when the voice said, "Why you so stupid, Howard?" Sam burst out laughing. Whoever did this had stolen a Puckett line. Freddie grinned and hid his face.

Howard turned to another student and told him to get a ladder from a janitor.

"Well, that's my cue to go," the voice said. "I'll see you at the wig shop, Howie." There was an audible click and then a shuffling sound. The tile fell back into place.

_12_

"Hey, Gibby," Carly said. Because of all the ruckus and pranking she hadn't even noticed that she had not seen him that day.

"Hey, Carly, what's happening?"

"It's just so...oh no." Before Gibby could comprehend what was happening, Carly had leaped into his arms. In one jump, she had leaped into his arms.

"Carly?"

"Rats," she said, with her eyes squeezed shut. He looked down. Yes, there were rats. Probably at least three dozen or so. Some of them scampered over his feet. He didn't mind. He had worked in his uncle's pet shop over the summer, and he actually thought rats were cool, but they just got a bad reputation. He didn't really notice the rats much, though, as he concentrated on the girl in his arms, with her eyes closed shut and her arms clasped tightly around his neck. He found himself entranced by her perfume. _I feel like a zombie_, he thought.

"Are they gone, Gibby?" she whispered.

He looked around. "Yeah, they're gone."

"Okay, you can let me down now." Gibby started to release her, but she still clung to his neck. "Okay, maybe just a little bit longer."

"No problem," Gibby said.

"I'm sorry I'm such a girl, Gibby."

"I wouldn't want you any other way," Gibby said. She opened her eyes and stared directly into his. "Do you want me to take you to your next class?"

"Would you?" she asked. He nodded, and walked with her in his arms. Such a sight would have ran like wildfire through the gossip channels of the school, but on this day it was not even noticed, largely because the main gossip group was trapped in a bathroom, attempting to keep the rats out.

"Hey, look, aliens," Gibby said, looking up, as something fell on his arm. Carly reached out and touched it.

"That's liquid soap, Gibby."

"Even cooler." He looked up and saw that the hallway ceiling was coated with it. "Awesome."

_13_

And then it was over. Sam walked down a hallway, almost falling on a floor she had coated with butter herself. Rodney was coming toward her. He held out his hand. She shook it.

"Good day, Sam. What do you got?"

"Three hundred and ninety-four. You?"

"Three ninety-five." He grinned.

"I guess we'll just have to see on Monday who got it," she said. He nodded, and they walked their separate ways. Sam looked up as she felt an arm around her shoulder. Freddie smiled down at her.

"How you feeling, Puckett?"

"Tired."

"Well, guess we need to take you home so you can catch a nap. We got _iCarly_ and a big date tonight."

And Sam, who had barely been able to walk up to that point, smiled. "Freddie?"

He nodded. "Piggyback?"

She grinned. He knelt down, and she climbed on his back, resting her head on his shoulder. She was asleep before they got to the door.

**A/N: I wish I could claim all the pranks came from my own mind. The majority were ideas I got online. My humor tends to be verbal. One of my friends called me a "comedy ninja", in that I would jump in with a funny remark and then jump back out before anybody even knew what happened. Pranks were never my forte, so thank you, Google.**

**I want to apologize if I offended anyone yesterday with my rants about stuff in fanfic. I definitely feel how I do about the review requests, but I probably shouldn't have written about the Freddie and Sam issue I had, especially as the story I referenced is fairly popular and was easily guessable. Let me assure everybody that I have loved the rest of that story, and that was also part of the reason I was thrown off, as, since I don't like them, I usually avoid that type of scenario I previously mentioned and hadn't expected it in that story. Again, apologies.**

**Thanks for reviews from: afanoffanfic, Geekquality, sfuffasdreamsaremadeon, Moviepal, rangergirl123, SeddierFTW, PurpleJerkWarrior, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, ShooshYeah35, UnderxGravity, LadyArtemis101, WothcerLizzieGinny, PurpleJerk, and kiyokoseddie.**

**Afanoffanfic: Thanks. That's always awesome to hear. Er, read.**

**rangergirl123: Hopefully this chapter was fast-paced enough for you. Sometimes when I set a goal, there is an (my favorite phrase, apparently) ebb-and-tide to the chapters, and I don't feel that it can constantly be more, more, more of something, or it loses its effectiveness. Also, there are still five more chapters after this one.**

**SeddierFTW: I hope I cleared up my thoughts on the one issue. And I apologize if I failed to make this clear before, but there is not going to be a double-date. Two different dates. Because Sam insisted. **

**PurpleJerkWarrior: I didn't take it as an accusation. I thought it was funny, because the thought was something that never crossed my mind until I had Gibby say it. It's going to be weird after five days when I have nothing to update (since I am obviously horrible at building anticipation and making people wait). I don't have any ideas right now, but then again, my "Nothing to Fear" story seemed to pop out of nowhere, so we'll see.**

**clarksonfan: I know. Sorry. I kept finding myself at several points in this story, thinking to myself, oh, I could have this person say or do this...and then I remembered, oh, yea, K+.**

**UnderxGravity: You shut up, you, or I'll have Brian Boitano after you. Uh, I mean...what are you talking about? The knocking with the head thing is just a me thing. I've come home with my hands filled and had to do it. Of course, I have a hard head.**

**LadyArtemis101: I'm just not going to convince people that Freddie is not good at pranks, am I? Meet me at the next comment.**

**PurpleJerk: With the handcuff, I don't think I would necessarily call that a good prank. To me, that was probably more of a kneejerk reaction kind of thing, without much planning and, in its scope, I don't think it necessarily qualifies as a prank. The Gary Wolf thing is a good prank, I do have to admit. The thing is, though, that he went through Sam torturing him about that chain letter issue and it pushed him enough to do that. Generally, Freddie doesn't have the malice or cunning to fully commit to pranking, and I think Freddie pulling a successful prank is more like the movie "Rudy". Yeah, Rudy had his great moment, but if he had played all season, do we really think that was something he could do consistently? No, I say. Same with Freddie and pranks. I hope we can put the Freddie prankster rumor to bed. The thing with Sam is that people sometimes forget how differently she acts when she is with a boy, and it's probably hard for people to see that in stories like this, because they think, kind of like Freddie did, "it's not a guy; it's Freddie." But it is still a guy. But I am glad to have her being a little more like herself. I don't know that Sam would want to be a lawyer, but, yes, if she did, she would be a good one. I don't tease! Apparently, I skate...wheeee.**


	23. Chapter 23: First Dates

Chapter 23: First Dates

**Disclaimer: Never had it, never will.**

_Day 12 - The Dates_

_1_

It wasn't their best _iCarly_. Most of the audience probably didn't notice the difference between it and most episodes. It wasn't the worst-neither girl stormed out during the middle of it and Nevel didn't try to take over the show. But both Carly and Sam were nervous about their respective dates that night, and that made them both the tiniest bit off. Strangely, Freddie, who in the past was sometimes the most nerve-wracked of the three, didn't seem affected at all.

"Great show, guys," he said. Well, it was a pretty good show, and he didn't want to bring anybody down. Normally, Sam and Carly would have agonized about the mistakes and missteps on the show, but as soon as the red light went off, they had both forgotten about it.

"I'm going to start getting ready. If you want any help, Sam, you know where I'll..." Carly left without finishing her sentence.

Freddie went over to Sam and wrapped his arms around her waist. She put her arms around his neck, as if it was second nature. "You nervous?" he asked.

"About a date with you? Please. Only that you will bring me somewhere boring, or that we'll have to do something nerdy." She scoffed, although she was indeed nervous. He knew she was, and she knew that he knew, but they didn't talk about that. In some ways they had fallen into a couple's routine before they had officially become a couple.

"Oh...well, I guess I'll have to cancel that tour of the World's Largest Computer," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I guess I need to go get ready. I want to look good just in case I run into somebody more interesting," she said. She left. Freddie winced. He knew she was kidding, doing the Sam-and-Freddie thing they always did, but it hurt when she said it, in a way something like that had never done before. He was going to have to reconcile his two versions of Sam if he wanted to keep dating her. And he did.

_2_

By the time Sam got to Carly's room, Carly had already tried on six different outfits. Sam quickly changed into something similar to what she had already been wearing, but without the accumulation of the day's pranking. She did apply some light make-up.

'What am I going to wear?" Carly asked. Sam turned around to see Carly standing in her bra and underwear.

"Wear that. Gibby will appreciate it."

"Ha ha, Sam. I seriously don't know what to wear." Sam rolled her eyes. She got up, went to Carly's closet, and picked out a blue dress.

"Wear that."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, yeah, put it on. You're welcome."

Sam went back to look at the mirror. Her make-up was finished; she didn't really look she was wearing any. She looked at her hair and wondered what she should do with it.

"Just keep it like it is, Sam."

"What?"

"Freddie likes your hair like that."

"He does? Did he say something?" She looked at her hair in the mirror. It was full of curls and somewhat tousled.

"No, but I've been watching him, since, you know, I knew you guys liked each other, and he looks at your hair all the time. Plus, I've seen him running his fingers through it." Sam thought about it. He had done that. _Cool_, she thought. That meant she had less work to do. Carly giggled.

"What?"

"You're blushing, Sam. Who would have thought that Freddie Benson had such capacity to make Sam Puckett blush."

"Shut up." She got up. "Carly, what if I screw this up?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, by being me. I said something to him before I left the studio, and I think it hurt his feelings, because I was thinking of him as Freddie, not as my boyfriend."

"Do you want him to be your boyfriend, Sam? No smart answer! Just the truth."

"Yes," Sam whispered.

"Then apologize."

Sam thought about it. "Well, that will be new." _Unless I plan to kiss him afterward_, she thought. _Well, maybe not so new_.

_3_

When they came downstairs, Freddie and Gibby were waiting for them. They had at some point started ignoring Spencer, who was talking to them about the birds and bees, which had somehow morphed into swans and fire trucks.

Gibby saw them first and stood up. Freddie turned around and got up, too.

"You look beautiful, Carly," Gibby said. Carly turned red.

"Who's blushing now?" Sam whispered in Carly's ear, and laughed. Sam walked down to Freddie. "What, don't I look hot, Freddie? Take some lessons from Gibson."

He bent so that his mouth was near her ear, and she felt his breath on her neck. "You always look beautiful." She heard Carly laugh, and she knew her face was now red.

"You kids have fun. Not too much fun, of course," Spencer said.

_4_

The two couples parted outside the lobby. Gibby escorted Carly to his car, and Sam and Freddie walked to his mother's car. Sam was somewhat surprised his mother had agreed to let him drive, especially on a date with Sam. She wanted to ask him about it, but she was afraid that what she said might come out insulting.

"So where are we going, Freddie?" she asked.

"You'll see."

"You know you really can't pull off the mysterious type. You know that, right, Freddie?"

"Oh, I can't?" he said, and he smirked at her, making her feel lightheaded.

"Hey, Freddie?" He looked at her. "You know I was teasing about what I said earlier, about finding somebody more interesting, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He was silent for a moment. "I guess we're just going to have to figure this out as we go."

She nodded.

_5_

"I didn't know you speak French, Gibby." Actually, she knew he hadn't taken any language courses in school, and yet he had ordered the food perfectly. She looked around the restaurant. She was glad Sam picked out the blue dress, as it fit perfectly with the restaurant's decorum.

"It's the best way to order French food," Gibby said, smiling. _He really has a sweet smile_, Carly thought.

"Are you sure this isn't too expensive, Gibby? It looks expensive."

"No, I come here all the time." As if to prove it, a man wearing a chef's uniform came up to Gibby and spoke to him in French, gesturing animatedly. He turned to Carly, pinching her cheeks lightly, surprising her. He kissed Gibby on the cheek and headed back to the kitchen.

"What did he say?" Carly asked.

"He said I was here with the most beautiful date tonight. I agree." He smiled at her. "And...he said he's glad I stopped taking my shirt off all the time."

Carly laughed.

_6_

"Are you going to kill me, Freddie?"

"What?"

"You took me to a park at night, with nobody else around. I'm just waiting for some eerie music to begin playing, and a hatchet to come out." He laughed.

"It's funny you say that."

'Wha..." They arrived over a hill, and there was a small building, like a utility shed. Freddie pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the building. He pulled out a projector and a screen. Then he went back in and pulled out a small ice chest, with a heavy bag on top of it.

"What is this, Freddie?"

He grinned. "I thought you'd like to watch a movie."

And then Sam said the words she thought would never come out of her mouth. "What if we get caught?"

_7_

Carly and Gibby were done with the second course of the meal before she realized that they had talked only about her. She was so unused to it, that she hadn't even noticed it. She shuddered internally, thinking about Austin, the boy who she met at the speed dating thing, who wouldn't let her get in a word edgewise. And Gibby, who she had known for a large portion of her life, was asking her questions about herself.

"Gibby?"

"Yeah?" He paused as he was taking a drink of water.

"What are you going to do in college?"

"I've been thinking of becoming a veterinarian."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I worked at my uncle's pet store last summer, and it just feels natural."

Carly thought about it. "Gibby, do you have...uh, I mean, are your..."

"Do I have good enough grades?" he asked. She nodded, ashamed. "I'm on the honor roll, Carly. I'm strange, not stupid."

"I'm sorry, Gibby, I didn't mean it like that." He saw that tears ran down her cheeks. He picked up his chair and moved next to her, putting his arm over her shoulder lightly.

"I don't blame you, Carly. I know how people see me. I know how I act. That's just, you know, who I am. It never bothered me what people thought of me. It bothers me what you think of me."

She still didn't look at him. "I think you're probably the sweetest boy I've ever known, and I suck for thinking that about you."

"No, you don't. Hey, you want some creme brulee?"

_8_

"We won't get caught," Freddie said.

"Well, we're trespassing," Sam said.

"Technically, no, we're not," he said. He adjusted the projection screen near the building, and then set up the projector. He shook out a blanket and invited her to sit.

"What do you mean, we're not trespassing?"

"You remember that guy Gunsmoke, who my mom hired as a bodyguard during that whole Shadow Hammer thing?"

"Yeah." He handed her something from the bag. She looked at it; it was a Meatstravaganza sub from her favorite shop. He handed her a can of Peppy Cola.

"Well, he still comes around every once in a while. He and my mom have become friends."

"Are they..."

"I don't know. I don't want to know. Anyway, he has connections with a bunch of government agencies, and he helped me get a permit for this. Technically, we're supposed to be a college film class doing a project on nature."

"Wow, Freddie Benson, rebel. Well, rebel with a permit."

"Shut up, Puckett," he said. He kissed her on the cheek. "Do you want to watch this or not?"

"I hope you don't expect me to watch something like _The Notebook_, because all the cheese I need is in this sub."

"Let's see what we can do." He started the projector.

Sam's mouth dropped open. "_Mutilated at Midnigh_t? Are you kidding?"

"I thought you'd like it." He sat down next to her. Without thinking, she snuggled closer to him. _Only Sam Puckett would find a slasher film romantic,_ he thought.

"Dude, did you see what he did to that guy's spine?"

_9_

The meal had been the best Carly had in her entire life. She had felt stupid for, well, acting like Gibby was stupid, but he had moved past it, making her laugh with imitations of several of the animals he had encountered at the pet shop, although she did blanch a little when he imitated the goat.

But now, it was strange again. They were walking past the Seattle Art Museum, and she realized she was once again was doing all the talking. She looked over at him and saw that he had a strange look on his face, as if he were both scared and sick.

_Oh, no, he's still mad about what I said. I'm a horrible person_.

She did not see the ghost of a smile that was on his face or the way his breath had stopped as they passed the museum.

She never noticed that she had grabbed his hand at that time and had been holding it since. It had seemed so natural that it hadn't registered in her mind.

_10_

"Are you sure, Sam? I mean, he looks pretty dead...holy...that was gross!" Sam laughed. She took another bite of his sandwich. He had eaten half of his and decided he couldn't go any further. She looked over at him. He had a hand over his eyes, with his fingers splayed.

"Dude, come on, you have to watch this part." She pulled his hand away.

"Ooooowwwww," they said together. The film credits began to roll. She grabbed a Peppy Cola to wash down the last bite of sandwich.

"Sam?"

"Hmm."

"Will you carry me? I'm scared." She snorted laughter, and Peppy Cola came out her nose.

"Ow, Freddie, I'm gonna hurt you." But she couldn't stop laughing. He smiled at her, pulled her close and kissed her on the head. He handed her some paper towels to clean the mess she had created.

He began packing up the film stuff. He almost said something when he noticed Sam helping, but he didn't want to call attention to it. He chose instead to cherish it-Sam assisting without being prompted was a rare thing.

The walk to the car was slow. They walked closely together, pausing occasionally to share a kiss. Freddie wasn't normally easily frightened, unless his past experiences with Sam were counted, but the film was pretty dark and gross. _Of course_, he thought_, no murderer in the woods would be a match for Sam Puckett_.

He put everything in the trunk. When he turned around, Sam moved to him and put her arms around his waist. He did likewise to her. They stood like that for a minute, not moving, just holding on to each other and looking into each other's eyes.

_11_

In many ways, the two of them could not have been any different. The prissy, popular girl and the strange, often-shirtless boy. They would have seemed different to anybody who saw them at that moment, even if the person seeing them had not known them at all. The difference was in the eyes. The boy, when you looked into his eyes, looked deliriously happy. The girl did not, but you would have had to raise her face to see her eyes, as she had barely looked up, and had never seen the look in the boy's face.

"I guess I'm gonna go, Gibby," she said. She wanted to apologize for being such a horrible date, such a horrible person. She started to move toward the door of her apartment, but found her arm held back. She looked.

"When did you start holding my hand?" she asked.

He smiled. "You held my hand, Carly. Since the museum." Then she did look into his eyes and realized that once again she had misjudged Gibby.

"I had a nice time tonight, Gibby. I'm sorry that I said something stupid."

He shook his head. "You didn't. You couldn't."

They stood there for a moment, and then Carly moved forward, reaching up and placing her lips on his. The kiss was soft. A moment later, they broke apart.

"Bye, Gibby."

"Uh, bye, Carly," the almost-impossibly even-more-dazed boy said.

Carly shut the door behind her and leaned agains the door.

Spencer was sitting on the couch. "Are you okay, Carly?"

"I kissed Gibby lips!"

Spencer moved his mouth several times before he was actually able to form words. "Um, how was it?"

A small smile broke open on Carly's face. "Pretty nice, actually."

_12_

"What is it with you and Puckett girls and this fire escape, Freddie?" She turned to him from staring out at the Seattle night. She smiled at him, hoping he understood she was joking. She didn't like the idea of him kissing her sister, but she understood how it happened, and she didn't want that one mistake to ruin what had been the place where she first began to realize she liked him.

"Oh, I take all my dates here," he said. She grinned. _Maybe this can work_, she thought. _Maybe we can be Sam and Freddie and have our verbal battles, and still be able to kiss and make out._ She thought there was probably something wrong with her that she liked the confrontations she and Freddie had so much, but, then again, so did he, or he wouldn't have put up with her for so long.

"Do you now?"

"Yes, they call me Senor Amor de el Fuego Escaparse."

Sam laughed. She tried to think of a Freddie three years younger being able to say something like that to her, and couldn't do it. He had grown.

"I had a good time tonight, Sam." He moved closer to her, and they resumed the position they had outside the car, arms around each other, looking into each other's eyes.

"Of course you did. You were with me."

"Yes, even despite that, I had a good time. Ow," he said, as she lightly punched his chest. He stuck his tongue out at her. "Of course, I mean that I had a good time because I was with you."

"Better," Sam said. "Now kiss me, before you start to bore me."

"Gladly," he said. And he did so.

_13_

Spencer had gone into his bedroom soon after Carly had come home. Truthfully, he was still having issues with the whole Gibby lips situation.

Sam entered Carly's bedroom. Carly was on her bed, with her knees up, pillow between her knees and chest.

"You have to hear about my date," they said at the same time.

**A/N: I know I probably screwed that Spanish up, but I did the best I could. Wow, we only have four chapters after this. I'm actually a little sad about that. Of course, I've spent longer on this story than any of my others, not to mention that depending how long it ends up being, it will past the word count of my other three stories combined. Now, I really hate to do this to everybody, but I feel I have to. I'm not going to post another chapter until I get a review that uses the word "tintinnabulation" correctly. I'm sorry; that's just the way it has to be.**

**Thank you for reviews from: rangergirl123, afanoffanfic, Flutter360, Geekquality, SeddierFTW, MissSeddie, QueenV101, iCarlyfan101, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, Penny Tee13, Moviepal, cynthiarox99, seddieSUPERFAN101, ManzanasSilla, clarksonfan, and PurpleJerk.**

**Rangergirl123: Yeah, I never saw Gibby and Carly being such a big part of this story. Strange things happen.**

**afanoffanfic: I have no problem with wanting feedback, or even with pleading for feedback. It's the people who say, "I'm not going to post another chapter unless I get so many reviews" that bother me. What if there is one person out there who loves your story so much, and that person is suffering the waiting because other people haven't reviewed? It's just sucky. Okay, hopefully that's my last word on this topic. **

**Flutter360: I do a lot of my reading on the phone, too, so I understand not reviewing. Again, I appreciate any reviews I get. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.**

**SeddierFTW: I wish they were all my pranks. All praise the power of Google. If it was up to my pranking ability, the entire chapter would have been filled with puns and wordplay. **

**Penny Tee13: Thank you! I was ridiculously proud of that, and I'm glad that somebody mentioned it. Much better than "Francine Briggs was Jiffy Popped". Because, well, that kind of sounds gross.**

**ManzanaSilla: I actually like the relationship, too, at least the way I'm writing it. I corresponded with somebody else about Gibby-mainly about how difficult he is to write, because I think Dan and company allow more leeway in his character for the sake of a joke (hence, why he would be so upset about Freddie and Tasha that he would want to fight Freddie, but then he and Tasha have a non-exclusive relationship, so that he can date Patrice). So, although I haven't written Gibby completely true to character (since you can't really nail that down), I'm pleased with it.**

**PurpleJerk: I think Rodney is a cool guy, just as long as you don't cut into his profit margin. You would be surprised how little work there is available for comedy ninjas. "What do you mean you don't want me to pop in and randomly insult you, grab some food out of your fridge, and leave? Whatever, man, I guess you hate America!"**


	24. Chapter 24: Mama's Boy

Chapter 24: Mama's Boy

**Disclaimer: Whoo! Now, **_**iCarly**_** is mine! Oh, wait, hold on...oh, Dan said it was just an **_**iCarly**_** poster. Dang.**

_**Note: Julefor gave me my 300th review. You guys are great. Since you define awesomeness, I decided to give you this chapter a little early, and I won't even make you jump through some hoops to get it. I will probably post the next chapter tomorrow night. Again, thanks for all the reviews.**_

_Day 13_

_1_

Freddie Benson woke up Saturday morning feeling the best he had since at least the last PearPad release. No, probably all the PearPad releases combined. He had gone on a date with Sam Puckett and not only survived it, but he was still her boyfriend at the end of it. In some ways, he didn't think that was possible. He tried to put up a brave face for Sam, not only because he knew she would make fun of him if she saw how afraid he was that the night would go badly, but because he didn't want her to think he didn't believe in her. He did. He always had. She just sometimes had an issue believing in herself.

But everything had worked out better than even he had possibly hoped. He had spent most of the night in the park, not watching the movie, but looking at her when he felt she didn't know it, tracing the curve of her neck, watching the breeze blow her hair, catching the burst of laughter from her beautiful lips when somebody had been disemboweled by the killer. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to the movie, though. Maybe he would have realized that attacks seldom comes from where a person thinks they would.

He left his room. If his mom wasn't already up, he would grab some donuts he had secreted away.

But she was up. She was sitting at the kitchen table, as if she had been there for hours, just waiting for him.

"Freddie, we need to talk."

_2_

_The world is ending._ That was Spencer's first thought. He shook his head once, then twice, in an attempt to get the image out of his mind, sure that he was dreaming. Because as much as he lived a little left to reality, he could still recognize what was real and what wasn't.

And Sam Puckett up at eight in the morning and cooking, that wasn't reality.

"Hey, Spencer, you want some pancakes?" She smiled at him and tilted the pan at him. There was indeed a pancake in there.

"Sure." She nodded and turned back to the stove. _Maybe a unicorn will pop out of the syrup bottle. That will prove I'm still asleep and dreaming. Oh, you vile unicorns._

She brought two plates over and handed him one. He grabbed the syrup bottle and was slightly surprised that there were, indeed, no unicorns. He handed the bottle to Sam, who let the syrup drizzle over her pancakes while she...she was humming. Sam Puckett was humming!

"Sam, are you okay?"

"Sure, why?" He looked at her.

"OMG, you're in love. Holy fructose, you're really in love!"

"Shut up, Spencer. Give me those pancakes." She reached out to grab his plate, but he pulled it back in time.

"Wow, I knew you guys liked each other, but loooooove..."

"Shut up!" And Sam let her head drop on the counter.

Spencer got up and came around to her. He patted her on the back. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to tease you. It's good that you guys love each other."

"But he's such a dork."

Spencer grinned. "But you think dorks are hot."

Sam's shoulders sagged. He heard her say, her voice muffled as her head was still on the counter, "you want some bacon?"

"Bacon would be delightful."

_3_

"What's up, Mom?"

He sat across from her. Normally, he would sit in the seat next to her, so that they were catty-corner to each other, but he had seen the look on her face. Plus, he had spent years around Sam Puckett. He had learned many of the signs that a confrontation was coming. Also, he and his mother started having more of these conversations within the last year, arguing about the tick baths, curfews, mother-and-son activities.

"I wanted to talk to you about Samantha." She sighed Sam's name.

"She prefers Sam." He didn't like the tone she was setting, so he figured he might as well make a line in the sand from the get-go.

"Sam, then. Do you really think being with her is the best thing for you?"

"Why didn't you bring this up yesterday, Mom?" She didn't say anything. "You let me borrow the car. Was that because you figured that the date would be so disastrous that we would never go out again?" His mother grimaced. He was right, of course. _I'm probably going to be valedictorian, and yet so many people think I'm stupid. I know I can be gullible, but why do they think I'm stupid?_ "Really, that's it? You were hoping for me to have a lousy date?"

"Of course not, Freddie. You know that I want your happiness above anything else. I just don't think Sam Puckett is the person who can provide you that happiness."

"And who can? Carly? Oh, wait, I forgot you hate her, too."

"She almost got you killed."

"No,_ I_ almost got me killed, trying to save her. Which I would have done for Sam. Or Spencer. Or Gibby. Or you."

"You should never have been put in that position," Mrs. Benson said.

He waved that off. He couldn't let her control the conversation, or he would already have lost.

"Sam's my girlfriend."

"You could find somebody better..."

"I love her," he said. He said it quietly, but there was no doubt in his voice, and his mother stopped. They looked at each other over the silence that had taken its place at the table.

_4_

"Sam?"

"What's up, Carly? Want some bacon?"

"Uh, thanks." She took a piece. "Is there a reason Spencer is duct-taped to the couch."

"Something I learned at school. I wanted to try it out." Carly looked at Spencer, who was struggling. She went over and removed the tape from his mouth.

"I said I was sorry," he panted.

"What did he do, Sam?"

"He said I loved Freddie."

"But you do love Freddie."

"Okay, but he made a song about it." Carly looked at Spencer, who gave her a smile. She shrugged and put the tape back over his mouth.

"Will you let him loose soon?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower."

_5_

"You love her?"

"Yes."

"Freddie, that's ridiculous. You're a young man, and young men always think they're in love. In no time, you will find somebody else, somebody more suitable for you."

"I've liked Sam for years, Mom. This last year or so, I've realized I love her. I don't see it going away." _Remember, your body is steel. It cannot be moved. As soon as she sees a tremble, a shake, even a blink, she will tear you down_.

"She's no good for you, Freddie. She's rude. And she's violent. And she's not at your level, intellectually. I've heard you talk about her grades, and she seems rather dumb."

"Sam Puckett is not dumb." Marissa Benson visibly recoiled from the look on her son's face. This was not her delicate boy, her fragile son.

"Okay...well, she doesn't apply herself as she should." She relaxed, as the iron left his eyes. _You're still losing him. You can't lose him_, she thought.

"No, she hasn't applied herself, but she has been recently. With my help. And Sam is one of the smartest people I know. And I love her."

"But..." He waved her off. Freddie Benson, who had always received remarks on every report card about his respect and politeness in elementary school, waved his mother off.

"Here's what I see happening. You can continue to try to tear Sam and me apart. You can forbid me to see her."

She sat forward, not realizing the trap he had set.

"And," he continued, "when I graduate I will be going to MIT. Or one of the other schools on the East Coast. Between scholarships and a job, maybe a loan, I would be able to handle tuition, even if you won't help me. Of course, that would probably make me so busy I wouldn't even be able to come back for Christmas vacation."

He had voiced it, the fear that kept her awake long after sleep should have claimed her. Her son was going to be a man, and when that time came, he would run away from her as fast as he could.

"And if I don't do those things?" she asked.

"Well, I've been accepted to several colleges around here. There are a lot of good Information Technology departments, plus I've been looking into getting a film degree. I mean, my family is here. As are my friends."

"What are you going to do if she breaks up with you, Freddie? What if she breaks your heart?"

"Sam won't break my heart. She might break my finger, but never my heart." He smiled at the horrified look on his mother's face. "Mom, if she breaks my heart, then no matter what she'll still be my friend, whether she wants it or not. That's who we are. I wish you could see the Sam Puckett that I see."

"Freddie, I'm not just going to let you dictate your life right now. You're still a minor."

"I know. And you're still my mom, and I will love you no matter what. I'm just telling you what I plan to do, based on what you plan to do. And I want you to know what's important to me."

They stared at each other for a while. She was so angry at him, and yet she saw that he could somehow make it without her following behind him with an industrial-sized first-aid kit. The thought both saddened her and eased her.

"Okay," she said. They both visibly relaxed. Finally, he moved to a chair closer to her.

"I need you to do something else, Mom."

_7_

Carly looked at the text from Gibby. He had invited her to the zoo that afternoon, making sure to emphasize they would go nowhere the petting zoo. She texted back that she would be happy to go.

She was about to let Sam know, when Sam's phone buzzed. Sam looked at it.

"Freddie wants me to come over tonight. Boy can't get enough of me." Carly laughed at the difference between the bravado of Sam's words and the pleased and nervous look on her face.

"Cool. I'm going to the zoo with Gibby. What are you going to do while I'm gone?"

"Nap," the two of them said together.

"Spencer, get away from the couch. I'm gonna sleep."

"I'm still trying to find all my hair," he said, lifting a cushion.

_8_

She had texted Freddie that she was coming over, so she was surprised for the second day in a row that his mother answered the door.

"Hello, Sam. It's nice to see you." Sam eyed her warily. Mrs. Benson looked like somebody was holding a gun to her head off-camera while she read a prepared note.

"Hey, Mrs. B, what's shaking?"

"Nothing at the moment, dear. Just heading to work. I hope you and Freddie have a nice evening."

"Cool," Sam said, and headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. People were used to this behavior from her, and neither Freddie or his mom noticed as she watched them communicate nonverbally. Freddie held out his hands and scrunched up his lip, as if to ask, _what was that?_ Mrs. Benson rolled her eyes and mouthed _I'm trying_.

"Okay, Mom, have a good night at work." He walked her to the door, and the two of them whispered furiously to each other. Sam heard Mrs. Benson say something about "protection", and Freddie pushed her gently out the door. When he turned around, he was blushing.

"What's with your mom, Benson?"

"You know. She can barely control her glee at the two of us being together."

"Yeah, I was getting that. So what's on the agenda for tonight?" Both of them thought of what Mrs. Benson had mentioned, and they both struggled to not show it.

"I actually have something special planned," Freddie said. He reached down and picked something off one of the chairs and put it on the table.

Sam looked at it. "No, no, no. You suck. That is not happening."

_9_

"What, Sam?"

They stood on opposite sides of the table. Between them on the table was an English textbook.

"You're not my tutor anymore, Freddie."

"Okay, how much did you learn learn from Reuben?"

"Well, Robert Frost wrote a lot about wash barrel tacos."

"Exactly. You have a big test on Monday. And I know you haven't been studying, since you've been concentrating on the pranks."

She groaned. "What's it matter, Freddie? I just need to do well enough to get through this year, and then no more schooling for Sam."

"Except for college."

"What makes you think I can get into college?"

"Carly already told me you got accepted. And I can't have the people I hang out with at college think my girlfriend's a dummy."

She looked at him. He had known this conversation was going to be much worse than the one he had with his mother. His mom had years of built-up guilt at her disposal, but she was not the master of pain that Sam was.

"You're going to college here?"

"That's the plan."

"That's stupid. Didn't you get accepted to MIT?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want to be away from my mom."

"Freddie, don't tell me I'm not stupid and then act like I am. You can't do that. You're doing it for me, and I won't let you do it."

"Doesn't matter. I'm still doing it."

"What if I break up with you?"

_Your body is steel._ "I am still doing it."

"This is so stupid, Freddie. You deserve to go to MIT, not be held back by me."

"I never wanted to go to MIT. I do want to be with you, Sam. But I'm not going to change my mind just because you're threatening to break up with me. Actually," he said, feeling his muscles tense, "we might want to end it anyway, because the Sam Puckett I fell in love with isn't a coward."

She was fast. Sometimes he forgot that. She was at him, with his shirt bunched in her hands before he realized it. "You calling me a coward?"

"You're threatening to break up with somebody you love just because it's easier for you to adhere to the common opinion about you, rather than make the effort to prove them wrong. Seems cowardly to me."

"You're playing me," she said.

"What?"

"You think you know me better than I know you, Benson. You think I don't see you trying to push my buttons?"

She pushed him away, and turned from him.

He moved behind her. "Is it working?"

_10_

She could walk out the door. Nobody, not even Freddie Benson, manipulated her. Except that he was trying to manipulate her for her own good, or at least as he saw it.

"Is it working?" he repeated.

"Why was your mother being nice to me?" she asked. As she had hoped, that caught him off guard.

"My mother's a nice person," he said, weakly.

"Freddie."

"I made her."

"How did you make her, Freddie? She's not really fond of me or Carly."

He stepped back a few steps, and she turned around. "We had a conversation today. About you. She didn't think you were good for me. I disagreed. And I told her if she tried to interfere with us or our relationship that I would go to college on the East Coast. Away from her."

"You did that for me?"

"Somewhat. I did it for me, too." He moved to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She tensed at first, and then relaxed.

"Don't you think you're moving a little fast there, Freddork? You're gambling your future on me, and we might not even make it through the week."

"I happen to think you're worth gambling on, Sam, and I didn't lie. I don't want to go to MIT. Even if we weren't together, I would still want to be here. I still want to be near my friends."

"Okay, fine, I was almost afraid you were going to ask me to marry you or something."

"Oh, man, did Carly tell you about the ring?"

"What?" Freddie began laughing. She punched him in the arm, but he still laughed. She thumped him in the forehead. Still laughing. Finally, she kissed him. That stopped his laughter.

_11_

"I don't want to study, Freddie."

"Come on, we'll only do it for a little bit, then we can do whatever you want."

"You never want to tell Sam Puckett we can do whatever I want. You might not survive."

"How about for every five minutes, you get a kiss."

"That sounds like it's rewarding you more than me, Freddie."

"Okay, how about this?" He got up, then paused. "You have to say you love me first, so that I don't think you're unduly influenced."

"Freddie."

"Sam."

"Fine. I love you. Dork."

"Good." He went to the fridge and opened it. He reached behind the fish casserole he knew Sam wouldn't touch and pulled out a package. He held it up for her to see.

"Bolivian bacon?"

"Yep, you get that now. If you study with me for two hours I will let you have the rest that are coming in the Bacon of the Month club."

"You know, I don't think you've ever been studlier than you are now. Let's study."

_12_

They went over the book. Freddie cooked the bacon. She actually let him have half a piece, so he felt secure in the fact she did indeed love him.

Finally, they were done.

"You did good, Sam."

"Of course, I'm awesome."

He laughed. "You ever think that maybe you have multiple personalities?"

She laughed. "So now we get to do whatever I want."

"Of course."

"You know, I've always wanted to be a mother."

"What?" He saw her smiling. Well, he should have expected that. Nobody could pull something over on Sam Puckett and not expect it to come back to them.

"Sorry, Sam, my mom told me I have to use protection," he said, and was satisfied when she looked away. Then he felt heat rise in him as he realized the topic they were circling. "So, uh, what would you like to do, Princess?"

"You ever been bungee jumping?"

**A/N: **

**Wow, almost everybody used the word "tintinnabulation" in their reviews. You guys are awesome. **

**Thank you for reviews from: afanoffanfic, Icarlya, BkwormSarah, kiyokoesddie, SeddierFTW, PurpleJerk, seddieSUPERFAN101, fireman35, Kaitley, iBloodbenderSeddie, wazzabinho, ShooshYeah35, EmileyHelene, UnderxGravity, Semi-CrazyWithaLittleWeirdness, Moviepal, clarksonfan, cynthiarox99, Tbayleyt, Julefor, and Divina Rose.**

**afanoffanfic: Yeah, that's where I first heard the word. It also happens to be my favorite word ever; it's like a poem within itself. **

**Icarlya: Well, to Spencer, swans and fire trucks made more sense than birds and bees. That's just Spencer.**

**BkwormSarah: Thanks about the poem. At the beginning of the story, that was the part I worried about the most, because I've never been good at poetry. Of course, since then we have moved a far way from that part of the story I thought was going to play a bigger part.**

**SeddierFTW: definitely a Sam kind of date, I think. Although, if they last, I wouldn't be surprised that she eventually admits to Freddie that she's seen each Galaxy Wars movie at least a dozen times. **

**PurpleJerk: Is it bad that I had a dream that I actually had that job? As for the dates, I almost did actually have them do a double-date, but I just thought that it would be more interesting to contrast the dates, which were good ones for both couples, but in different ways. I'm mostly pleased with the way it worked out.**

**Kaitley: I have in my life met more than one person who I thought was a complete goofball, only to find out that they were often smarter than me. **

**iBloodbenderSeddie: Wow, thank you for the dedication. I am also one of those who stays up late to finish reading something I like, and I am happy that I was able to do that for you (not the lack of sleep, though-sorry). **

**ShooshYeah35: The verbal sparring is part of what makes them, much more than the physical aspect that used to be part of their relationship (well, Sam's part of it). I think they should be able to do a good job interweaving the new romance with the tried-and-true aspect of their relationship. And Sam and Freddie are comfortable with each other; it's just the new stuff like kissing they have to learn to deal with. Seems like they're doing okay so far.**

**EmilyHelene: I hope this chapter showed that there still some ebbing and tiding to be done.**

**UnderxGravity: I fully cop to the cliche of the staring-into-the-eyes thing, but some things are cliche for a reason. Actually, first dates, especially those during the teenage years, are full of cliche. So I guess I'll just have to say sorry on that one, but all in all, I'm still okay with it. That was what I was trying to say in Spanish. It looks like I at least came close to it, so that's gravy.**

**clarksonfan: I may have screwed up a previous day, but this is definitely day 13 (it started on a Monday, and this is the second Saturday). **

**Julefor: Well, I only have three chapters left, so I decided to cut out the explanation of what Freddie and Spencer were doing. No, I'm just kidding. You will find out in the next few chapters. I also think that the more important thing about Sam and Freddie's relationship is not only that they accept the type of person the other is, but how that other person behaves is part of the reason they love each other (although that won't stop them from teasing each other about it). I could almost see Gibby and Carly together on the show, but that's more because of Carly; they would have to nail down the actual Gibby character before it would work. The civilized culmination of the prank war just made sense to me: except for the one jerk, Steve, it wasn't personal. Sam wanted it for her own reasons, and Rodney wanted it for profit, but at the end of the day they were able to admire what the other had done and say let the best person win.**


	25. Chapter 25: The New Couple

Chapter 25: The New Couple

**Disclaimer: If I owned **_**iCarly**_**, at least once a season a mosh pit at a cloghopping festival would be featured, so there you go.**

_Day 14_

_1_

Marissa Benson opened the door quietly, so that she wouldn't wake her Freddie-bear. Growing boys needed their sleep, after all. One look at the scene in front of her made her wish she had thrown the door open, perhaps torn it off its hinges, so that she hadn't had to see this scene.

Her son was on the couch with that _girl_, his arms wrapped around her. Marissa felt the sudden urge to grab the industrial-sized bottle of anti-bacterial soap and douse the two teenagers with it. Only the thought of the conversation with her son the previous day prevented her, allowing her enough time to fully take in the scene.

Both teenagers were clad in the same clothes they had worn when she had left, except that they had both removed their shoes. The TV was on, and the menu screen for the first _Galaxy Wars_ movie was on. They could have fallen asleep watching the movie.

She moved around the apartment with a stealth that would have surprised and impressed Sam. It would not have surprised Freddie, who had become all too used to his mother's snooping. She noted the rinsed dishes in the sink and the empty bacon wrapper in the trash. Knowing the Puckett girl, Freddie had not had any of the bacon. Not that she was upset at that; bacon wasn't good for you. She looked at the girl in her son's arms. She had no idea how Sam didn't weigh at least twice as much as she did.

There was a textbook and several pieces of notebook paper on the table. She noted that some of the papers had Freddie's handwriting, while some had handwriting that must have been Sam's. She picked up one and looked at it. The girl could write full sentences, something Marissa had doubted, at least before last night, when her son had almost burned her with his eyes for suggesting that Sam was not intelligent. From what Marissa could remember of her high school English days, Sam Puckett seemed to be answering correctly, although the girl punctuated each answer with a "dork", "dweeb", or "doofus". The last answer was followed by "nerd", and then "I love you".

Next to the textbook was a receipt from Canyon Bridge Bungee Jumping. Marissa felt faint. Why were those _iCarly_ girls constantly trying to get her boy killed?

She went to the front of the couch and looked at the two on the couch. Freddie had one arm out in front of his face, and Sam's head was on it, while his other arm was wrapped around the girl's waist. How Marissa wanted to remove that arm. She looked at Sam Puckett, who had a faint smile on her face and seemed to possess an innocence in her sleep Marissa Benson had never seen from the girl before.

She thought about the conversation she and Freddie had the day before. She had dreaded the day that conversation would come, although she knew it would. She never thought Sam Puckett would be what spurred it, though. She could still ground him and refuse to let him see the girl. Would he follow through on the threats he had made? She thought he would. She knew Sam often called him a Mama's boy, and Marissa actually felt proud about that. But she also knew there was a strength in her son that few people saw, as he only displayed it when he felt it was truly necessary. He had displayed it the day before.

She left the apartment as quietly as she entered. She took the elevator down to the lobby. She ignored Lewbert's staring and used her cell phone to call the apartment.

"Hello?" He had picked up after the fourth ring, meaning he had likely had some trouble extracting the girl from his arms. He also sounded cautious.

"Freddie. I'm on my way home. I wondered if maybe you'd like me to pick up some donuts and chocolate milk." Donuts and chocolate milk had been a favorite Sunday treat for them, back before she began to worry too much about his lack of leg hair or about the fact he might never grow taller. They had done it less and less frequently over the years, although she did know he had a stash of food somewhere in the house. She had been unable to pinpoint the location, but she would. She always had before.

"Are you sure, Mom?" There were so many unasked questions in that one question.

"Of course, Freddie. You're almost...you are a man, and I guess I'll have to get used to it."

"Thanks, Mom. Mom...you don't mind if Sam joins us, do you?" Clever. Marissa closed her eyes. She was going to have to trust her son and hope he didn't mess his life up.

"No problem, Freddie. Why don't you go over to Carly's and get her. I'm not sure how she would feel about being in our apartment in her pajamas, though." Hopefully, her son took the hint, so she wouldn't have to raise the questions she had. In some ways, she was almost afraid of the answers.

"Okay, Mom. I love you." Before he hung up, Marissa could almost swear she heard a "Mama's boy" very faintly.

Sam Puckett better not break her son's heart. If she did, that girl would discover what tough really was.

_2_

"Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I slept here, don't you remember?"

"Sam, you never slept here." Carly watched as Sam went through her drawer in Carly's dresser. Sam spent so much time there that Carly just kept the drawer for her. Sam pulled out a pair of pajamas with Boogie Bear on them and began to put them on.

"Sam! Were you with Freddie all night?"

Sam turned around and smiled. "I think you're a little too innocent for this, Carls."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Well, I was in his arms all night."

"Sam!"

"Relax, we fell asleep watching his nerdy _Galaxy Wars_ movie. Prude."

"Sam, you've seen that movie two dozen times."

Sam laughed and held a shushing finger to her mouth.

"Did anything else happen last night?"

Sam thought about it. "Well, he did say he wanted to marry me, and I asked him to impregnate me. Bye, Carls." She left Carly's bedroom.

"Sam!" But all she got was laughter.

_3_

"Well, that was weird."

"What?"

"Your mom being all nice. It actually seemed like she almost meant it, too." Freddie smiled at her.

"Maybe she's coming around," he said, although he wasn't quite sure he believed that himself. There was a look in his mother's eyes.

They were in the studio at Carly's, relaxing in their bean bags. Their hands were linked together.

"You guys are decent, right?" Carly asked from outside the studio. Sam rolled her eyes, and Freddie smirked. Sam had told him about the conversation she had with Carly earlier.

"Just a second, Carly. Let me put my bra on," Sam said. She heard Carly gasp and saw Freddie turn his face so she couldn't see it.

"She's kidding, Carly," Freddie said. Sam tapped him lightly on the arm.

"Party pooper," she said.

Carly came in and relaxed when she saw they were fully clothed. Sam had told her she was joking before, but Carly still didn't seem to believe her.

"Are you spending the night, Sam? Or are you going to stay with your boyfriend again?"

"Well, Pam has a new boy toy, so, yeah, I'll probably stay over. And Freddie can just come over here after his mom goes to sleep. It will give us more privacy."

"Sam!"

"Face it, Sam. She's too easy. Is it even any fun?" Freddie asked.

Sam shook her head. "No, not really. I guess I'll have to go back to torturing you." She smiled at her boyfriend.

"I should have kept my mouth shut," he mumbled.

_4_

Carly had been feeling like a third wheel around Sam and Freddie, so she had used that as an excuse to ask Gibby to come over, although she was able to admit to herself that she was just looking for any excuse. She never would have thought that she could be with someone like Gibby. The boys she usually dated were tall and athletic, with Hollywood faces. Gibby definitely didn't have a Hollywood face, and he wasn't athletic. But he was strong, and while she wouldn't call him handsome, he did have a cute face. She knew if she told him that it might upset him, but the truth was he was becoming more attractive to her the more she really got to know him, while with her other boyfriends, the longer she knew them the more their attractiveness wasn't enough for her to justify being with them.

She went downstairs to greet him, giving him a light kiss and holding his hand as they walked upstairs, but once she got to the studio, she let his hand go. She was afraid of what Sam might say. Sam was her best friend, but subtlety and graciousness were not natural to her. She looked at Gibby's face, and he didn't seem to show that he was upset. She should have said something to him when they were downstairs, but she didn't think of it too late.

_5_

"Sam, you have to do something," Freddie whispered.

"Why do I have to do something?" she asked, in the same tone.

"Because you're the one who's freaking Carly out." The two of them looked at their friend, who looked at Gibby's hand for probably the twentieth time in the last fifteen minutes. She and Gibby were talking about something inconsequential, and Gibby would every once in a while move infinitesimally closer to Carly. He might be right next to her, given three or four days.

"New couples," Sam said, smirking.

"Yeah, I'm glad we're not like that," Freddie agreed, ignoring the fact that Sam was practically in his lap.

"Are you really going to make me do this?" she asked.

"No, but you should probably do it for Carly," he said. She shook her head. Of all the wonderful things about Freddie Benson, one bad thing was he knew just what to say to push her. She got up.

"Come on, Gibson," she said, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him out of the studio.

Freddie heard him ask, "are you going to break my thumbs?"

"I'm weighing my options," he heard Sam say.

"What's she doing, Freddie?" Carly asked.

"Fixing things," he said, softly, giving her a weak smile.

_6_

Sam brought Gibby downstairs. Spencer took one look at her and went into his bedroom. He had collected most of the hair the duct tape had torn off, but he didn't think that patch right below the elbow would ever be the same again.

"Gibby, you need to man up."

"What?"

"You got a girlfriend up there, and you won't even hold her hand."

"But...she's not holding my hand. I mean, we were before, but she let go when we...you know, because of..."

"Because of me?" He nodded. "If you think the fact that you're not holding her hand is going to stop me from making fun of you, you're wrong. So you might as well hold her hand and get something out of it, because I have a boyfriend and I probably have to be nice to him some of the time, so you're going to have to take up the slack. Stuff rolls downhill, you know. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, a little dazed.

"And, Gibby. If you hurt her, I'll break your thumbs every month for a year."

_7_

Freddie wasn't sure how to take it. Gibby came in, looking a little sick, but almost immediately he took Carly's hand in his. Carly looked up and smiled at him, then glanced at Sam to see if she would say something. Sam didn't, having settled back to using Freddie as a chair.

"Did you guys have a good talk?" Carly ventured.

"Yeah, I told the Gibster he needed to disinfect to get rid of all the cooties," Sam said.

"Sam!" Carly and Freddie said.

"It's okay," Gibby said. "I told her I got a shot two years ago at the free clinic."

Freddie heard a quiet chuckle come from his girlfriend's lips, and he bent down and kissed her own the forehead.

_8_

Later, Sam and Freddie were on the fire escape. Freddie sat on one of the steps, and Sam leaned back and used him as a pillow. It was a position she had made part of their routine rather easily, and Freddie had no complaints. Right now, Sam seemed particularly quiet.

"What's up, Sam?"

"Nothing."

"Sam?"

"Okay...jeez, you're really pushing the boyfriend privilege, aren't you?" He smiled against her hair and rubbed her neck gently with his thumb. She craned her neck to allow him better access. "I'm nervous about tomorrow. You know, with the whole prank thing. And the test. I've never really went into a test concerned about how I did."

"You'll do fine, Sammy. You studied."

She turned to face him. "Sammy? Really? You think you can call me that."

"Boyfriend privilege," he said. "Besides, I have a long way to go to catch up with your nicknames."

She turned back around and smirked. She actually kind of liked the nickname, at least coming from him. Not that she was going to let him know that. She tapped his hand on her neck. "Nobody told you to stop rubbing, peasant."

He grinned. He knew that she liked the nickname, but was refusing to let him know. "And there's no way anybody could beat you on pranks."

"True," she said. "No one person, but all of them combined. I don't know."

"Well, what's done is done. There's no reason to worry about it until tomorrow."

"What? Are you going to give me something to take my mind off it?"

He did.

**A/N: Okay, the next chapter reveals who won the prank war. Plus more surprises and goodies. This story hasn't always been easy for me, since I'm pretty much writing it day-to-day without any sort of an outline, but it's been fun, and I appreciate everybody who's stuck alongside me with it. **

**Thank you for reviews from: UnderxGravity, cynthiarox99, Julefor, Geekquality, fireman35, MissSeddie, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, Penny Tee13, EmilyHelene, PurpleJerk, clarksonfan, kiyokoseddie, iCarlya, SeddierFTW, and afanoffanfic.**

**Julefor: Being around Sam has toughened Freddie up, that's for sure. Hmm...when? Maybe in the next chapter, or the one after that. We'll see.**

**Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie: And if Dan and co. were consistent in their portrayal of Gibby, I probably wouldn't have made that comment, but since they're not, I felt free to spin him my own way. Hee. Spinning Gibby. That would make a great new segment.**

**EmilyHelene: Tintinnabulation is the sound of bells ringing. If people discover the word, it's usually because of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Bells", in which the word "bells" is repeated about 5 gazillion times.**

**PurpleJerk: No, Sam doesn't want to be a mother...at least not right now, as far as we know. She was just getting Freddie back for the marriage comment he made.**

**kiyokoseddie: Yes, the pranking king (or queen) will be crowned next chapter. The competition was among everybody in the Detention Posse, but everybody except Sam decided to help Rodney, because they figured only by their collected efforts could they defeat her.**


	26. Chapter 26: Crowned

Chapter 26: Crowned

**Disclaimer: Me, no. Dig it?**

_Day 15 - School Day_

_1_

Spencer Shay prepared breakfast for the trio of teenagers. None of them spoke. He never expected communication from Sam in the morning (unless she was going through some alien abduction or love spell like the previous day), but she appeared more melancholy than usual. Carly nibbled the edge of a bagel, making a pattern on it that Spencer mentally filed away to apply to a sculpture. And Freddie sat, without eating, next to Sam. Their legs touched, but otherwise they didn't seem to note each other.

"Guys looking forward to school?" he asked. The girls grunted. Freddie looked at him. Spencer shrugged back. All had been that could be.

_2_

By the time they got to school they were more active. At least Carly was. Part of it had to do with the fact she knew she would see Gibby in first period.

Freddie leaned against his locker, and Sam leaned against him, hugging his arms around her. Neither of them seemed to pay any attention to the people noting their closeness. Carly looked at the gawkers and hoped they would shoo; if Sam did notice them, especially in the mood she was this morning, she would bring the pain.

"I just wish we could find out this morning. I don't want to wait all the way until detention to see who won. Plus, this test," Sam said. She groaned and reached across her body and slugged Freddie on the arm. It was an awkward punch and caused no pain.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sam. It's my fault. I should never have tried to help you with your grades. Reuben was doing such a better job."

"As long as we both understand it's your fault," she said, but Carly saw the smile fleet across her face. _Wonders never cease_, she thought. Then she saw Gibby and forgot about her two friends.

"Yeah, bye, Carly," Sam said, sarcastically.

"Give her a break. You know how she is at the beginning of relationships."

"Blech. Okay, I guess I might as well face the firing squad. Wish me luck." She turned around to face Freddie. He cupped her cheeks lightly with his hands.

"You don't need luck, Sammy. You got this nailed," he said.

"Blech," she replied, smiling. She gave him a quick peck on his lips, sending at least four gossips scurrying down the hall (one ran into an open door and fell, only to have her friend leap over her without a second glance). Sam didn't notice, nor would she, had she known, care at that point. She entered the classroom.

"Go get 'em, Sammy," Freddie whispered. He went down the hall. He had his own mission.

_3_

Sam Puckett had taken tests before in which she was somewhat aware, almost peripherally, of what was on the test. The test this day was almost like deja vu to her. She could swear she had done this before, because all the questions she seemed to know the answer to before she finished reading.

By the time she left the class she had actually forgot about the prank coronation later. _I can't wait to tell Freddie about this_, she thought. She stopped in the middle of the hall. _I'm such a dweeb_. And, yet, it didn't bother her at all.

_4_

A person entering the classroom and only hearing the voices would never have, unless they knew the voice so well to know who it was, placed Freddie Benson as the person saying those words. The screeching woman at the front of the class, with the red face tinged with purple you could definitely place as the other person in that "conversation". Her hair was greasy, despite multiple showers over the weekend.

"What did you call me, Benson?"

"I called you Butters. No offense intended. I think it suits you." The expression on his face was blank. The other students around him tried to hide their grins and laughter. One girl in the back of the class whispered to another, "he really must be dating Sam Puckett, if he's acting like her."

"You apologize to me right now, young man."

"I'm sorry, Miss Briggs. I do have one question, though. How long do you have to stay in the microwave?"

As the class burst out in laughter, she shouted to him, "you go to the principal's office right now."

Freddie exhaled once he got out of the classroom. Part one accomplished.

_5_

"Mr. Benson, the frequency in which you visit my office is becoming a surprising disappointment," Principal Franklin said.

"Sorry, Principal Franklin. I figured since Sam will be here less often, I would help you ease into the withdrawal slowly. Kind of like a patch." Freddie remained cautious. He knew if it was Sam saying it, Principal Franklin would not be affected at all. They just had that type of relationship, built up over years of detentions and counseling. Freddie needed to ensure he got what he needed, but didn't push so far as to get his mother involved. After the weekend, that was the last thing he needed.

He caught the barest of twitches on the left side of Principal Franklin's lip.

"Since you, for the most part, have been an exemplary student, Mr. Benson, I'm going to ask you what you feel I should do with you."

"Well, I could apologize to Miss Briggs. I do feel bad about the butter. My mom's put me through some treatments that...well, never mind, I understand what she's going through."

"Nonetheless, you had your opportunity to apologize and it seems that you have, as they say, blown it."

"Oh," Freddie said, affecting disappointment. "Then, I guess, it's probably only right that I serve detention." He looked to Principal Franklin, waiting.

Principal Franklin nodded. "Yes, it seems that is perhaps the best solution. I'm sure Miss Puckett can show you the way. She has a standing appointment there on Mondays."

"Oh, does she?" Freddie asked.

Principal Franklin got up and came around the desk. He placed his hand gently on Freddie's shoulder. "I hope you know what you're doing, son."

_6_

Sam came to the lunch table and was surprised to see only Carly and Gibby.

"Where's Freddie?"

Carly and Gibby looked at her. "You didn't hear?" Carly asked.

"Hear what?"

"He's been in the principal's office. Wendy told me that he called Miss Briggs 'Butters', and that he didn't apologize, so he got sent to Principal Franklin's. It looks like he's going to have detention."

"What?"

Sam found that the thought of Freddie being in detention did not appeal to her at all. Not that she didn't want to spend as much time with him as she could, but she could just picture Mrs. Benson's face and what she would say. _See, not even three days dating you, and he's already becoming a hoodlum._

"I have to find him." Sam took off.

"Do you think we should try to find Freddie and warn him?" Carly asked Gibby.

"He'll be fine," Gibby said. "Do you want me to walk to your next class?"

Uh, sure," Carly said. She couldn't help feeling like she was once again the last person in the loop.

_7_

Sam tried to find Freddie throughout the day. Yet, somehow, she always seemed to miss him. She skipped one of her classes in the hope of catching him in his. Yet he wasn't there.

Finally, it was the last period and she had to admit to herself that she was not going to see him until detention. She would do what she could, but if his mother found out, she didn't see any way that it wouldn't be blamed on Freddie dating Sam.

Sam entered the detention classroom, still not seeing Freddie. Rodney nodded to her. There were a few Detention Posse members there, but nobody else. Just five of them. Six, if Freddie made it there. If he didn't soon, he would get into more trouble. Sam, who never concerned herself much with detention, was becoming nervous because of the nub. The door opened again, and Freddie entered the same time as Mr. Howard. Freddie sat at the front of the class and didn't look at her.

"Sit down, you hooligans," Mr. Howard said. He groused about something, but Sam didn't pay any attention to him. When he finally left to go watch his geometry shows, she and Rodney were supposed to sit down and compare points, but now she had this Freddie situation to worry about. She looked at the back of his head, trying to shoot death rays from her eyes, to force him to turn around. He didn't. _Fine_, she thought,_ see if I care. _

_8_

Finally, Mr. Howard left. Rodney and Sam looked at each other. Sam looked at Freddie out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed to be concentrating on his phone. She put him out of her mind for the moment. There was no reason to let him affect her, if he cared that little.

"Good day, Sam. Are we ready to do this?" Rodney asked.

"Let's get it done."

The first thing they covered were all the pranks that had already been accounted for, simply to ensure the point total was correct. It was: 395-394, with Rodney ahead by one point.

Both of them pulled out their cell phones, so that they would be able to provide visual proof of their pranks.

"Okay, as you can see, I have one of my guys," Rodney said, pointing to Chris Colton, "putting dye into the water fountains."

"I did the powder in the air blowers," Sam said, showing her proof. They totaled the points for those, which were even.

"I have the rubber balls on the stairs," Rodney said.

"Impressive. I have the desks tilting."

"Billy and Chris put all the sawhorses in the bathrooms," Rodney said.

"Cups on the stairs," Sam countered.

Rodney whistled in appreciation. "Nice. I switched the teacher's textbooks."

"Okay. Kind of lame," Sam said.

"Not every one can be a winner, Sam. It's still points." She nodded in agreement.

"Liquid soap on the ceilings," Sam said, showing the picture on her phone.

"I superglued lockers."

"Me, too."

"We shrank the football players' uniforms," Rodney said.

"Rats in the hallway," Sam countered.

They countered each other at each point. Sam realized both of them were now down to the bottom-dweller pranks, the one- and two-pointers, where whoopee cushions and hand buzzers ruled. The problem was that Rodney had more people working for him, while Sam only had herself, and soon he was naming pranks without her providing any counters. Finally, he stopped.

"That's it?" she asked. _That's it? He has me beat by fifty points. It wasn't even close_.

"Yep. What else you got?" Rodney asked. If it was anybody else, that would have come across as mocking, but Rodney wasn't. One, he knew if he won it was only because of numbers. And, two, he knew Sam Puckett and admired her, and he wouldn't be surprised if she had held back her final cards.

Except she hadn't. Sam was done. She didn't like the gang-up Rodney had done on her, but she couldn't fault him for it. She started to get up to congratulate him.

"Sorry, Sam, it took me a while to get everything downloaded." She turned to see Freddie pulling up a desk next to her.

"What?" she said.

"I know, I know," Freddie said. "You can beat me up for it later. Anyway, as you can see, Rodney, Sam set up Principal Franklin with the audio system." He showed the picture to Rodney. After a moment, Sam grabbed the phone and looked at the picture. It was Sam, bending over the audio equipment. She looked at Freddie with a confused expression on her face. She had only been in that room once, when Principal Franklin had told her to fix it. And that area was so small only one person could have taken that picture: the same person who had told her to go into the room.

"Impressive, Puckett," Rodney said.

"And we have here," Freddie said, "Sam paying the clown for the marriage proposal." He showed them another picture, and it was indeed Sam and the clown transferring money between them.

"Okay, here's another one of me setting up equipment in Mr. Howard's class, so we could insult him." He showed a picture of himself setting up wires, and then he played an audio of what had occurred in the class.

"That's not fair," Billy said. "It's supposed to be Sam doing the pranks." Rodney turned and looked at the other boy with a disdainful look. Billy shut up. Rodney turned back to Freddie, who raised an eyebrow at him. Rodney signaled for him to go on.

"Popcorn!" Freddie said, and showed a picture of him loading popcorn into Miss Briggs. The other boys whistled in appreciation. Even Billy seemed to forget his earlier protest. Sam was still several steps behind, trying to reconcile her mind to the fact that Freddie Benson had pulled pranks. Freddie sucked at pranks. Maybe he got a good one every three or four years, but that was it.

"Okay, this next one was a a little difficult to pull off. Pudding in the vending machine." He showed a picture of him using a siphon at the vending machine. Sam stared at him. That was him?

Rodney had been tabulating points, since Sam didn't seem to be putting any effort into it.

"Five hundred eighty-two to five hundred eighty-one. I'm up by one point," Rodney said. He shrugged his shoulders in sympathy.

"Okay," Freddie said. Somehow he knew it would come to this. He had been saving it for last, hoping he wouldn't have to show it. "Here you go."

He gave the phone to Rodney, who played the video Freddie had brought up. Sam heard some voices from it, but couldn't make out what was being said. Rodney looked up at Freddie.

"That was you?"

Freddie nodded. Sam saw that he was blushing. "Give me that," she said. She took the phone and played the video.

"_Are you recording?" Freddie asked. _

"_Yep," another voice said. _

"_Okay, here goes nothing." Freddie bent down out of the screen. A moment later he was back up and pulling his shirt over his head. He put a paper bag on his head, making sure he could see the eye slots. "Here I go?" Freddie turned around and started to run, and the video stopped, ending with the blur of his lower back._

Sam looked at Freddie, who refused to look back at her.

"Congratulations, Sam."

She snapped around. "What?"

"You win," Rodney said. He reached out and shook her hand. "Excellent stuff. So, Sam, what do you think about merchandising for the senior prank? I think I could make a tidy profit. I'd offer you a cut, of course."

_I won? I won? I won._ She turned to Freddie, but he was gone.

**A/N: Interesting. I wonder if there's more to the story.**

**Thanks for reviews from: UnderxGravity, xxbabygirl15xx, SeddierFTW, rangergirl123, QueenV101, Geekquality, Julefor, Moviepal, cynthiarox99, Springleigh, popcorn1001, WahooPunchPurple, Penny Tee13, kiyokoseddie, and PurpleJerk.**

**UnderxGravity: I had a general plan at the beginning, but once I realized that at least part of the story was going to end quickly, I had to change. By the time I finish a chapter I usually have a pretty good idea what the next chapter is going to cover, but I don't necessarily know what the chapter after that would be. Other times, I don't really know what I'm going to write until I'm writing. For example, the day I wrote the chapter with Freddie and Mrs. Benson's confrontation, I had no idea that she was even going to be a big part of the story, much less dominate the chapter. That is completely different than the first two stories I wrote, in which I didn't even publish a chapter until I was done with the story ("Box Kicker") or I had already written half the story ("Maybe It's Just Me"). With this story I have been publishing at least within half a day of first finishing the chapter.**

**SeddierFTW: I'm going with the Dan budget approach and just pretend the havoc caused didn't matter that much.**

**Julefor: Me, weird? Whaaaa? **

**Penny Tee13: She just realizes how much her little Freddie-bear is willing to do if she tries to contest his relationship with Sam.**

**PurpleJerk: I'll allow you to make your own assumptions there. Perhaps if I didn't make this a K+ story, I could expand. It doesn't matter so much that Freddie loves Sam, it's just that she really is concerned about Freddie being hurt. **


	27. Chapter 27: It Was Always You

Chapter 27: It Was Always You

**Disclaimer: I don't know who this Dan Schneider guy is, claiming I don't actually own **_**iCarly**_**, but the next time I see…oh, gosh, there he is. Everybody, be quiet. Tell him I went out for ice cream or something.**

_Day 15 – After School_

_1_

As she made her way to Carly's apartment Sam wasn't sure what to think. That was the thing that was always frustrating about Freddie. He couldn't just stick to one way of being, so that she could deal with that. No, he couldn't just be the goofy tech-nerd who was in love with Carly, so that Sam could make fun of him without being concerned if she hurt his feelings. And he couldn't be her punching bag, too afraid to stand up to her. No, all of a sudden, Freddie was so many things, things she had never thought him capable of being. Freddie had pulled pranks. If you had asked Sam, she would never had thought he had been capable of pulling a prank. Maybe one or two, every once in a while. That one he did to her, making her think Gary Wolf had texted her, that was a good one. Not that she was particularly pleased with it at the time. But other than that, and handcuffing her to Gibby, which wasn't much of a prank, in her opinion, he didn't really have the skills for it. So she had thought, back when she felt that his idea of putting raisins in a guy's hat at camp was as far as he could go.

And he had streaked. Freddie Benson had streaked. The thought of that angered her, because she had heard the other girls talk about the streaker when everybody thought it was that one Dwayne kid. They had expressed just a little too much interest.

Freddie had also won the prank competition for her. So she went to Carly's apartment, not knowing if she was going to kiss him or kick him in the area he apparently had no problem showing to the entire school. She would stay at Carly's, too, because if he were hiding in his apartment, she wouldn't go there. She knew if she did kick him in front of his mother, Mrs. Benson would definitely not let Freddie see Sam anymore. At least Sam's brain was being rational enough to see that one thing.

_2_

"Is Freddie here?"

"He's in the studio. What's going on, Sam? Freddie didn't tell us anything, but he seemed nervous." Carly sat next to Gibby, who was watching Sam cautiously. Spencer stood in the kitchen, a safe distance from Sam. He had also hidden all the duct tape, just as a precaution.

"He has a right to be nervous," Sam said and headed upstairs.

Gibby grabbed Carly's hand and pulled her up. "Come on, we better go, too." He took a confused Carly upstairs.

"Aw, falafel," Spencer said. He looked at the front door, an easy escape, shook his head, and also headed upstairs.

_3_

She had to give it to him. The old Freddie Benson would have jumped and run for the door, probably crying for Carly to save him. This one looked up from his computer and said, "hey, Sam, what's up?" Of course, he had positioned the computer cart between Sam and himself, but he still showed an amazing amount of bravery simply by not passing out.

"What's up? What's the big idea with the pranks?" she asked.

"Oh, that. You're welcome," he said. _See?_ she said to herself. _See what he does? He just drives me crazy sometimes._

_Well, you are talking to yourself._

_Shut up!_

"I'm welcome? I never asked for your help, Benson."

"True, but when people care about each other they help even when they aren't asked." By this time, Carly and Gibby had entered the room.

"I could have done it without you," she said.

"Actually, no, Sam, you couldn't have. Without the points I got you, Rodney would have beat you. Now," he said, quickly, holding off her protest, "we both know that you could have beaten any one of those guys one on one, but they were all working together. And I saw that it was stressing you out."

"Wait, Freddie did pranks?" Carly asked. Obviously somebody had gotten their facts wrong. Freddie was no good at pranks. Why, Carly was even better at pranks than Freddie was. Well, no, not really. She was horrible at pranks. _But Freddie still stinks at pranks_, she thought.

"Oh, not only is he the Prank King, you can also give a hand to the Streak here. I'm surprised you're still wearing clothes, Benson." She spat the words at him, even as she wondered why she let him get her so angry. Yes, the streaking did really bother her; she didn't want anybody else to see her boyfriend naked. But what really bothered her is that if it hadn't been for Freddie, she would have failed. Sam Puckett didn't like relying on other people.

"You streaked, Freddie?" Carly looked like she was going to pass out. All the gossip she had heard in the girl's bathroom about the streaker, and all along it had been one of her best friends. Freddie wouldn't look at her.

"Um…that one was kind of my fault," Gibby said. Freddie threw him a look of gratitude.

Spencer slipped into the room, although the conversation he had heard so far should have forced him to book a one-way trip to Timbuktu.

Carly turned to Gibby. "How was it your fault?" she asked, with a voice that was eerily similar to Sam's.

_4_

"_I don't know, Gibby. I feel like I should do something else, just to add a few more points."_

"_Hey, I know. Why don't I streak? I've always wanted to try that." The two of them were in a janitor's closet. Freddie was pacing back and forth with his camera in his hand._

_Freddie looked at him. "People would turn you in, Gibby."_

"_Not if I wear a paper bag over my head. I can use the one you have Sam's snacks in."_

_Freddie thought about it. It might work. He could actually hand Sam the bag, so that a picture would make it look like she was handing it to him. It seemed strange to ask Gibby to do this for him, but it wasn't like Gibby hadn't been half-naked at school before._

Gibby had been half-naked at school before_._

"_It won't work, Gibby."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because people have already seen you with your shirt off. Your physique is, uh, unique, and people would recognize you."_

"_Oh." Gibby thought about it. "Well, you could do it."_

"_Me? Do I look like the kind of guy who would go streaking?"_

"_No," Gibby said immediately. "Which is why no one would ever suspect it was you."_

_And that was how Freddie Benson ended up running down the halls of Ridgeway wearing nothing but a paper bag, hoping against all hope that he never actually had to show the video Gibby had taken._

_5_

"Pretty cool, Freddie," Spencer said.

"Shut up, Spencer," both Sam and Carly said.

"Wait a minute. You took the video of Freddie, Gibby? You were with him during all those other times, weren't you?" Sam grabbed him by his shirt.

"Yes, I was." There was no hesitancy in his voice. Apparently today was the day of people not being scared of Sam Puckett.

"Gibby, why would you do that?" Carly asked.

"Because he's my friend," Gibby said. "And he asked me if there was anything I wouldn't do for the girl I love."

Sam released his shirt.

"Oh, Gibby," Carly said.

"Wait a minute, Benson. There's no way you could have come up with those pranks all by yourself. What gives?" Sam didn't want to think about what Gibby had said, about the fact that her boyfriend would do all that for her.

Silence surrounded them. Gibby and Freddie did an admirable job of not looking at Spencer, causing Sam and Carly to turn to him.

"You pranked, Spencer?" Carly yelled.

"Uh..."

_6_

"He didn't, Carly," Freddie said. "He just provided consulting."

"Consulting?" Carly asked.

"Hold on, I'll be right back," Spencer said, and ran out the door.

"He's not coming back," Sam said.

"He'll be back," Freddie said. "Anyway, I guess Gibby came up with the stre...that one prank, and I came up with the 'You Light Up My Life' one."

"Principal Franklin was the one who took my picture! How did that happen?" Sam asked.

"I asked him to do it. For you."

"Why would he do that? What did you offer in return?" Freddie blanched. It was not going as well as he hoped it would.

"I just offered something I was going to make happen anyway."

"And what was that, Fredward?" Sam asked, dangerously.

"That you would finish this year with a 3.0 grade point average."

"You what?" She turned to Carly with a disbelieving look on her face, searching for moral support. But Carly...Carly was looking at Freddie with admiration. What was going on?

Sam turned back to Freddie. "Well, you're pretty screwed, Freddie. 'Cause we both know that ain't happening."

"Yes, it is, Sam. I'm going to be helping you."

"That's what-"

"Got it!" Spencer screamed, as he came into the room. He was holding a huge binder.

"What's that?" Carly asked, glad to move away from Sam possibly hurting Freddie.

"My Big Book of Pranks," Spencer said, proudly.

"Oh, Spencer," Carly sighed.

"Hold on, Carly. Let him explain," Freddie said.

"Okay, so Freddie came to me about these pranks, and said I owed him because...well, I owed him. He said he knew that I couldn't _pull_ pranks, but as long as I didn't actually do the pranks myself, there shouldn't be any reason not for me to come up with ideas for pranks. See." He held open the book and flipped pages, revealing drawings, writings, and diagrams.

"Spencer, you can't do this," Carly said.

"Carly, it's okay," Freddie said. "He hasn't done any of the pranks at all. All he's done is design them. And he's actually made a little money."

"What?"

"Well, Freddie built me a web page, and you're looking at Prank KIng and Associates." Spencer pointed at himself. "You know what bought you that new jacket? Pranks."

Freddie and Spencer smiled at each other.

"Well, I don't care," Sam said. "I didn't need any of this."

Spencer looked at Sam. "Why are you being so stupid, Sam?"

"What?" Spencer had never said anything like that to her before.

"None of us think you are weak or incapable, Sam. We did this because we love you, and you should probably just accept that." He looked at her kindly.

They stood for a moment across from each other. Then Sam moved to him and hugged him. "Thank you," she mumbled against his chest.

"Hey, what about me? I did all the hard work," Freddie said. Sam snorted against Spencer and beckoned him with her arm. Freddie put his arms around the two of them.

"Thank you, nub."

Gibby came up on the side of Spencer and Freddie and joined the hug, but with enough distance to avoid Sam if she felt she had shown too much weakness.

"Well, now I feel like I didn't do anything," Carly said.

Freddie looked back at her. "We didn't tell you because you're Sam's best friend, and you would have told her. Because you love her."

"Good enough," Carly said and joined them.

"You guys are a bunch of wusses," Sam said, rubbing her cheek against Freddie's shirt.

"Whatever," he whispered. "You love it."

_7_

"So there's my big man, gonna protect his little woman," Sam said.

"Sam, quit it." He didn't mind. He was happy Sam had moved on from being mad at him, and the most common way for her to demonstrate this was by teasing.

"It looks like it might rain tonight," she said, adopting a Southern belle accent. "You might have to escort me home, so that you can throw your jacket across any puddles I might encounter."

"I might throw you in a puddle," he said, groaning. She poked him in the belly.

"I can't believe you got Ted to help with a prank."

"Well, he said he had to be out of the loop as much as possible, so that was the only thing he did. And I had to teach him the lyrics."

"Aw, is little Freddie a Debby Boone fan?"

"Shut up. It's one of my mom's favorite songs." Sam laughed. "Besides, how did you know who it was?"

"Looked it up."

"Uh huh."

Sam's hand was still resting on Freddie's stomach. She started pulling at his shirt. "Sam, what are you doing?"

"I just want to see what you showed every girl at Ridgeway. I was so busy I didn't even really get a chance to see."

"Cut it out, Sam."

"You know you want to."

"Sam, this isn't going to happen."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

_Good lord, what have I gotten myself into,_ Freddie thought. He looked at the girl with the glint in her eyes and her moist lips. _Whatever it is, I hope it never ends_.

"You first," he said.

"Freddie! Naughty."

_8_

_When no one's watching_

_She smiles_

_And I stand there_

_Smiling_

_Thinking it's all for me_

_In this area_

_A wall used to stand_

_The games we played_

_As children_

_Have changed_

_But we still like playing_

_-Freddie Benson_

**A/N: Sorry for the extremely long author's note, but if you stuck with me through my stories, you pretty much know to expect it from me. **

**Okay, that's i...oh, wait, I forgot to mention. I originally planned to end this after the 27th chapter, but I kind of feel like it calls for an epilogue, so there is going to be one more chapter all wrapped up in a nice little bow about the zombie gorillas that attack...hold on, I don't want to ruin it for you. I am just kidding, of course. Some of you will likely know what the epilogue will be about, but if you don't, it's not going to be anything too surprising, but I sort of felt not to include it would be leaving business unfinished.**

**I received many, many comments about the whole Freddie-as-prankster thing, so I will just cover some of that right here. I knew right before I sat down to write chapter 16 that Freddie was going to be involved with the pranks (honestly, before the story started to take some twists and turns of its own, I really thought he was only going to be Sam's lookout on pranks). The problem with that situation was that, of course, many of you assumed that it was Freddie. Except for just out-and-out not mentioning it, there was little I could do to advance that storyline and not give you some clues. **

**I also really like doing the author notes and replying to your comments, but there was little I could do about your questions about this without lying. I don't like lying to people, so I did what I often have Freddie do in my stories: I misdirected. I never lied to anybody. I never said Freddie wasn't doing pranks. I just said that Freddie wasn't good at them, which I believe to be true. Which is why he needed Spencer. Of course, per canon, Spencer can't pull pranks, which is why I had him consulting, not actually doing them himself. So I was able to say that Spencer was definitely not pulling pranks. I wrote that pulling pranks seemed outside Freddie's comfort zone and said I shouldn't get away with making the characters out of character. I don't know how many people I actually fooled with this (I guessing not too many), but I do hope that I when I revealed it was Freddie, your response wasn't, "well, who didn't know that?" or "wait, that's unfair."**

**You guys also provided some great feedback. I had forgotten all about the Gary Wolf thing, so I had to find a way to include that in the story, hence the "sure, Freddie could pull a prank once every two or three years" comment.**

**I have to say, I've really had fun with the author notes trying to keep you from knowing it was Freddie.**

**Also, as for Freddie being the streaker, I admit I had some issues with that myself. But, one, I felt there had to be a streaker. I don't know why. I just don't think a prank competition can be complete without a streaker. Two, it does show how far Freddie will go for Sam. Three, Freddie never would have thought of it on his own, and pretty much found himself doing it before he really overthought it. Would Freddie on the show do it? Of course not, but I feel like I kept closely enough with his character while writing my own story to allow it. Also, Freddie on the show seemed comfortable enough with being pantsed at school, and you know pantsing is just a gateway to streaking. I also know of course that on the show they have portrayed Freddie as a weak nerd, but he's obviously not, so I didn't have any issue with the girls at the school being attracted to him (hey, if it can happen at Webicon...). If you disagree, I apologize and grant you permission to stop thinking about naked Freddie.**

**By the way, I know the whole group hug thing was cheesy, but every once in a while cheese is acceptable.**

**Thank you for reviews from: Julefor, Moviepal, lumiforever, fireman35, AguaGoddess, adore202, popcorn1001, SeddierFTW, PuRpLe DyNaMITe, Icarlya, Babygurl4eva, QueenV101, UnderxGravity, cynthiarox99, Penny Tee13, kittyhawk09, PurpleJerk, clarksonfan, Sam's Tiger Ate Freddie, BkWormSarah, and Geekquality.**

**Julefor: Explanations? See above. You should know me by now. Just because I'm not lying doesn't mean I'm telling the truth. Bwah ha ha.**

**AguaGoddess: I always love reviews, but I do not require them. This story has received over 350 reviews, which is more than my other three stories combined, so I have no reason to complain about people not reviewing every chapter. Now, get out there, people, and review every chapter!**

**adore202: Sorry, I would have posted it, but I had other things to work on. You guys are not helping me get over my chapter posting addiction. It's like waving a joy buzzer in Spencer's face. And, of course, I cracked and posted the chapter anyway.**

**SeddierFTW: I hope you enjoyed Sam and Freddie's little scene. Those who choose to use their imagination may, but as for just how handsomely she rewarded him...geez, this isn't **_**iCarly AfterDark**_**. Get your mind out of the gutters, folks.**

**UnderxGravity: Always trust in Freddie.**

**PurpleJerk: You're my kind of people. Heh. Well, not to give away too much, but I do believe the streaking will be covered in the next chapter, but perhaps not in the way people suspect.**

**BkWormSarah: I know I can, but I'm okay with this format. I've already done the T-rating with more risque material, and I enjoy the ambiguity in the direction of some of what Sam and Freddie are saying is leading to. Again, if somebody wants to make assumptions about what happened, you're more than welcome to. **


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I may not own **_**iCarly**_**, but it sure is fun to play with every once in a while. Thanks, Dan.**

_1_

As far as pranks went, it was possibly the most un-Puckett one any of her classmates could have envisioned. They had been expecting one that was cruel or dangerous, perhaps something that electrocuted Mr. Howard, a possibility they all agreed was bad but that they would find a way to deal with.

Of course, they had all noticed the changes in Sam Puckett. It was hard to not notice that the time she spent touching Freddie Benson involved more hand-holding, hugging, and kissing than punches and wedgies. Not that Sam had completely softened, as many people discovered.

The gossips were the first to feel her wrath. Sam took the news that her relationship with Freddie was public fairly well, but snapped when one of the gossip crew, apparently not versed in the way of Puckett, sang that tree-sitting song near Sam. You know the one. Several people expressed surprise that anybody could fit in a locker so small. From then on, the gossip girls and Sam had an unspoken agreement: reporting was allowed, but commentary would be punished.

Some football players also wandered into the path of destruction. A few of them had felt that since she would stoop to dating a geek they could get away with attempting to show her more viable options. Some of the things she did cannot be be expressed without this author becoming squeamish, so let it suffice that many of those would have preferred to be stuffed into a locker much too small for their bodies.

The third group to suffer Sam's ire actually suffered the least, if only because Freddie protected them from her vengeance. In his quest to get Sam through high school without being expelled, he could justify to Principal Franklin Sam's encounters with the gossips and football players, not that he often had to, because they didn't want to shine a spotlight on their own activities. He wouldn't have been able to with the third group, so whenever he saw that Sam was about to snap, he would have to pick her up and move her away quickly. That was dangerous to his own body's health, but he had to.

The third group was his fault.

Well, not entirely his fault. Nobody would have known that Freddie was the streaker, except Billy Miller was still upset about the pranks, still believing it was unfair for Sam to have assistance even though Rodney had a whole crew, so he whispered the information to Wendy Smitson, the head gossip, and everybody at school knew within two hours.

"Thank you, Lord," Dwayne Grangen had been heard to exclaim. Since the day of the pranks he had been hounded by girls every day, and it was wrecking his life. Not to mention making his girlfriend very upset. When he found out who the actual streaker was, he wanted to beat Freddie up. Then he thought he should thank him, since everybody now knew it wasn't Dwayne. In the end, he decided to do nothing. He had heard what Sam had done to some of his teammates.

The girls who followed Freddie dwindled after a while, a wise decision when Sam Puckett was his girlfriend, but there were still a few dedicated ones. Freddie Benson, to his credit, never broke. As much as he was afraid his girlfriend would destroy him if he did, he was even more in love with her, so after more than a few bruises on his arm and attempts at trying to explain to Principal Franklin how a freshman girl had magically skidded down Hall A, they entered a comfort zone with the situation. Some girls would still check Freddie out, but they would quickly stop as soon as Sam's eyes fell upon them. _Beware the Gorgon_ became a oft-repeated phrase in the hallways when Sam walked by. She was secretly pleased by the nickname.

_2_

The prank, though, that was different. Not at all what they expected. They did expect when she came around to students and insisted that they kindly volunteer to help with the costs of the prank. Sam would not tell them what it involved, though.

"You'll like it, okay. Now go away!"

The week before school ended, they discovered what it was. Students, teachers, and administrators came into the school to discover the hallways were filled with sand. No, not just sand...water, also. Somehow the halls (and the classes, as they soon discovered) had been turned into beach fronts, with little pools of water on one side of the hall. There were beach chairs and umbrellas scattered throughout the school. A small grass hut had been erected at the end of each hallway, where students could get fruit juices and tropical drinks (all without alcohol, some of the students complained). The drinks came with a cost, though Rodney was glad to give a discount if a student also bought a T-shirt.

Many of the students that first day turned to see Principal Franklin coming in the hallway, stopping at what he saw. There was a collective pause, as they waited to see what he would do. He bent down, untied his shoes, and took them off. He walked barefoot into his office. He would have likely been more upset and more set on finding the perpetrators to punish if he had not received an anonymous e-mail that there were already volunteers willing to clean up everything the next Saturday.

For a week, the school was a beach side. Students came to class with Hawaiian shirts and sandals. A volleyball game was set up in Hall E. Mr. Howard, it turned out, was surprisingly good at the sport.

Everybody agreed that the prank, while nothing like what they expected, was the best one they'd ever seen. Freddie wasn't surprised.

_3_

"Are you kids ready for graduation?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam said. "I checked out about two months back."

"Sam," Freddie said, with a chastising tone. But he was smiling.

Marissa Benson watched the two of them. After she had discovered that the two of them were dating, she had hoped for a while that it would end quickly, despite how Freddie might be hurt. She insisted to herself that it would be better that Freddie suffer some pain now rather than more pain later. It never happened. The Puckett girl insulted him and hit him, and yet he would not break up with her.

Marissa began to pay more attention to them. The insults never seemed to bother Freddie. He sometimes insulted Sam back. Marissa began to understand that they weren't insulting each other; they were teasing. The hits that Sam gave Freddie were soft. When they did not know she was looking, she would sometimes see Sam go behind a sitting Freddie and wrap her arms around his neck and rest her head on his shoulder.

Marissa was not stupid. If she continued to resist the relationship, she knew that, at least in the short run, Sam would win. The thought of her son turning his back on her broke Marissa's heart, so she did what she never thought she would. She tried to befriend the enemy.

"You want me over for dinner?" Sam asked.

"Of course, dear. You're Freddie's girlfriend. You're over here often enough. At least we can get you something nutritious to eat."

Both Sam and Marissa looked at Freddie, who was visibly nervous.

"Okay," Sam said. Marissa smiled. "But if I have to come over and eat your food, then I get to pick the food on another night."

They agreed. Sam suffered through something with Brussel sprouts in it, while Marissa found herself feeling ill after something called the GutBuster.

It became a tradition for them. One night a week they would have something Marissa cooked, and another night they would eat something Sam picked. Marissa found herself, against her will, craving Bolivian bacon and installed a mini-fridge in her room, so that Sam didn't know Marissa was hoarding some for herself.

One night, while they were eating a vegetable lasagna, Sam looked up and said, "this is pretty good, Marissa." She went back to eating. Marissa was shocked. Sam didn't lie, she had discovered. Sometimes she was far too truthful, really. So when she said she liked something, it had to be true. Marissa looked at Freddie. He smiled at her and went back to his lasagna.

One day, as she was returning from the store, she stopped on the way to the apartment, hearing voices on the fire escape. Her son's voice. His girlfriend's voice.

"Sam, come on, tell me. What's wrong?"

"I...I just...I..." Marissa head never heard such hesitancy in Sam's voice. She sounded like she might be crying.

"Sam, it's okay. Is it the grades?" Marissa heard a whisper from Sam, but could not understand what the girl was saying.

"Show me, Sam." There was a pause. "Sam...Sam, these are great. You have all A's, except for two B's. You did great."

"It wasn't me. It was you, Freddie."

"Sam, don't be stupid. I don't take the tests. I don't do the homework. I just point you along the way."

"Don't call me stupid, nub," Sam said, her voice breaking. "I never thought I could really do this. Nobody thought I could do this."

"I always thought you could, Sammy," Freddie said, and Marissa heard the sound of him moving toward Sam.

"I love you, Freddie," Sam said.

"I love you, too, Sammy."

Marissa went into the apartment, leaving the two of them alone. She looked at the groceries she had bought for dinner that night. A cabbage sat on the top of the bag. She smiled. She went to her room and grabbed some of the Bolivian bacon. Bacon lasagna wasn't something she would ever have thought to try, but Sam did get a good report card. She deserved a reward.

_4_

"Could you guys not do that here?" Spencer asked.

The two teenagers looked at him. "What?" they asked simultaneously. She sat on her boyfriend's lap, and he had his arms wrapped around her. They had been sharing eskimo kisses and calling each saccharine-tinged cute nicknames.

"That!" he said, gesturing at them. "Why can't you be more like Sam and Freddie?"

"Spencer!" Carly shrieked, her voice raising an octave. Gibby thought that was the cutest sound ever and gave her a squeeze.

"Ugh. I'll work on this later," Spencer said and went to his room. They watched him go.

"That is really fun to do. I thought steam was going to come out of his ears this time," Carly said. She snuggled closer to her boyfriend.

"You really are the prettiest girl in the universe," Gibby said. "I wasn't just saying that to drive Spencer crazy."

"I know. Only because you tell me ten times a day." She smiled. Gibby really did make her feel like a princess sometimes. "I guess we should get ready. Big day and all."

"I don't know. Not that big. What's going to change? Come fall, we'll all still be together."

"Yeah, except at college. You and Freddie rooming together, and me and Sam. I can't believe I'm rooming with Sam. I'll probably have to sleep on slabs of pork."

"Yeah, I guess we should get our robes on." He looked at them, slung over a chair. "I can't believe Spencer threw that party for us."

"Well, you know the King. 'I got the moolah,'" she said, imitating Spencer's deeper voice. He actually did have the money. The prank site Freddie had set up for him was doing very well, so much so that Carly had to warn Freddie not to tell Spencer that he did indeed actually have a job. Spencer was enjoying himself, and she didn't want to ruin it by letting him know he was doing something he was not supposed to enjoy. And actually the web site inspired him to sculpt more, although many of the sculptures seemed to Carly to be reenactments of pranks Spencer had visualized.

Sam and Freddie came in.

"Ew, get off him, Carly. You don't know what diseases he might have."

"I told you, Sam. I've been inoculated."

"Whatever." She grinned. "You guys ready for this?"

"Fire extinguisher," Spencer said, running out of his bedroom and grabbing it.

"What happened, Spencer?" Carly yelled.

"Shower head caught on fire."

"Oh, come on!"

_5_

There was to be no talking during Freddie's valedictorian speech. Sam made sure of that. Carly looked at her friend, sitting two rows in front of her. Sam had this adoring look on her face that was so un-Sam. Carly giggled. Maybe it was un-Sam, but it fit in with Freddie's Sam.

"There's a cliche that goes: this isn't the end. It's just another beginning. What people don't often tell you about cliches is that they contain truth. And they don't. Although we all are stepping into another chapter in our lives, we are still the people we are, regardless of beginnings or ends, despite what others think of us. And the people we are are the people we choose to be. Never let anybody tell you who you are. You decide that."

Although the speech was for the entire graduating class, all the parents, and all the teachers, Freddie really only did the speech for one person, looking at her the entire time.

After all the talking was done, it came time for the handing out certificates. When it was Freddie's turn, Principal Franklin clapped him on the shoulder and shook his hand.

"You did very good, son," he whispered to Freddie.

Gibby came up about ten minutes later. He had removed his robe and was shirtless. None of the students or teachers seemed to mark this, although a few parents were shocked.

"Hey, Ted," Sam said when it was her turn. He grinned at her. She seemed almost shy. "Never thought you see this day, did you?"

"I always expected to, Samantha." He handed her the certificate. When he held his hand for her to shake, she instead wrapped him in a hug.

"I'll miss you," she said, then hurried off the stage. Ted laughed to himself. Six years that he thought he would never survive with that young lady, and now he was sad to see her go.

Two people before Carly was to go up to receive her certificate, a young man wearing nothing but a paper bag ran across the stage.

There was a moment of silence, and then a voice broke through it: "I'm here. It wasn't me." Freddie waved his arms on stage.

"I bet that was Dwayne Grangen," the sophomore sister of one of the graduates said to a friend. Dwayne Grangen, who was sitting at home watching TV, glad that Freddie Benson would graduate and he would no longer have to hear about the streaking, had no idea what was going to be waiting for him when he went back to school in the fall.

"Shay, Carly."

_6_

The four friends sat on bean bags in the studio. They had recently finished with their broadcast of _iCarly_. It was their last show, at least for three months. They told the fans that they would decide over the summer whether to continue. At that point they would either relaunch or have one final broadcast.

Sam, Carly, and Freddie didn't know what they wanted to do. It felt right to stop the show after graduating high school. And yet they didn't really want to let go of it. _It's what really brought us together_, they all thought at separate times. Yes, they had been friends before (well, at least Sam and Carly and Carly and Freddie had been), but without _iCarly_ would they have been as close? Sam looked at Freddie and knew that in one important way the answer was no.

"So what are you guys doing tonight?" Freddie asked Carly and Gibby.

"We're going to Le Pierre's," Carly said, happily.

Sam and Freddie made snoring sounds.

"It's wonderful," Carly protested.

"Whatever," Sam said. "You guys go there once a month. You're like an old married couple, stuck in your routines."

"Oh, whatever, Sam. Like you guys are any different with your dinners with your mother-in-law twice a week." Carly stuck out her tongue.

"Ha ha. She's not my mother-in-law. She just makes good bacon lasagna."

_7_

"So Carly and Gibby are the ones stuck in a routine, huh?" Freddie asked.

"What? I like it out here," she said, looking at the city over the fire escape. He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into him.

"I'm proud of you," he said.

"Thank you, Freddie. I couldn't have done it without you." She knew he expected her to insult him, to play the game, but at the moment she just felt so happy being with him she didn't feel like it. And if he had a problem with it, he could just suck it up.

"Of course you could have. I'm just happy you took me along for the ride."

She turned around and put her arms around his neck. He dropped his hands to her waist. They stood there, slightly swaying, a stepless dance.

"I really do love you. You know that, right?" she asked.

"I do. But I have no issue with you proving it to me," he said, smiling.

She returned his smile and brought her lips to his.

After a moment, she pulled back. "Oh, boy, are you in so much trouble," she said. She pushed him back against the fire escape stairs, so that he had to sit down, as she pressed kiss after kiss upon him.

"Well," he said, in between kisses, "I've always liked trouble. I'm with you, aren't I?"

Sam raised her head and laughed, then gasped as he pressed his lips against her neck.

**A/N: Okay, that really was it. No more chapters, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks. Waah. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it.**

**I don't know when I will be writing another story. It might not be for a while. I might be posting something tomorrow. Who knows with me? All I know is that as of this moment I have no ideas. Much appreciation for you who have stuck through this with me.**

**Thank you for reviews from: rangergirl123, Penny Tee13, clarksonfan, Divina Rose, kiyokoseddie, UnderxGravity, SeddierFTW, Julefor, and PurpleJerk.**

**PurpleJerk: I'm sure a lot of people probably expected violence from Sam, but I had my mind really set on Spencer setting her straight. I like the idea of the goofy guy spouting wisdom. **

**rangergirl123: Just four Cokes. I have that many Diet Cokes before I even wake up.**

**Julefor: Yep, didn't lie. I went back through my author's notes before I posted the last chapter, just to check. I never once said Freddie wasn't the one doing the pranks; I just indicated that based on his history it was unlikely, plus I pointed out he's been bad at pulling pranks. Ain't I a stinker? It was tough when everybody was going "it has to be Freddie". If I had another viable option, I might have made somebody else being the one to do it, but I couldn't, not while maintaining it within the purposes of the story. I think that Freddie is sometimes misperceived because he never does anything directly, in the manner of Sam, but he tackles it from the side, so that you never really know it.**


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